Breakdown
by Forlay
Summary: Rachel wasn't supposed to die on the Blade Ship, so the Ellimist corrects the mistake. But is the life Rachel and the other Animorphs create really any better than the one they led without his interference? Completed.
1. Prologue

_Author's Notes: First things first: this is an extremely dark fic. I had an idea earlier this evening (okay, by now actually it was yesterday) that was kinda dark, but then I started writing and...I scare myself sometimes, I really do. So I really feel the need to warn you all that there are some extremely unpleasant elements in this story. Heed that 'R' rating._   
_As for other notes, this is (eventually) going to fill the latest challenge at the anirarepair list, which is simply one of the characters writing a last good-bye letter that has to have some kind of connection to a rare-pair couple. But that's not coming for a long time. And also, this is an AU, "what if something went different in 54?" story. I'll never get tired of that basic question. And seeing's how it's been a year exactly since the last book, it seems fitting to do a story along those lines._   
__ __

**Breakdown**   
**By: Forlay******

**Prologue**

I saw it all, of course. I'd always known it was a possibility, and I even felt a grim sort of satisfaction knowing that the plan I was seeing unfold would be the deciding blow against the Yeerks. It was a desperate plan, made by the desperate leader of the band of humans called Animorphs. But it was the right plan. He knew it, she knew it, I knew it, though none of us liked it. But what could any of us do? The humans could only do what they could understand with their brilliant, but primitive, minds, and I was bound by the rules of the Game.   
I felt my opponent's fear. It was strange and also satisfying. Crayak rarely felt an emotion like fear. But he saw what I saw. He knew that his Yeerks were going to lose. He didn't know what to do, how to feel. He had never applied the concept of loss to himself.   
But suddenly I saw it. Crayak was unwilling to lose without hurting my team.   
He altered her.   
The Animorph he'd become obsessed with. The one he'd tweaked minutely, to give her greater strength, greater hostility, even going so far as to once give her, by human standards, super powers. This was the Animorph he chose to alter. To force her to give up.   
I saw her stand on the bridge of the Yeerk ship. A human alone in the midst of a pack of ferocious animals.   
I saw her look into the human eyes of Elfangor's son, eyes that were wet with tears. And I saw her say the three small words humans place so much emphasis on.   
"I love you."   
And with a swift blow, a Yeerk in morph as an Earth creature called a polar bear, ended the life of Rachel the Animorph   
The rules we had abided by for so long had been broken.   
I 'spoke' with Rachel before she died completely, moving on to something even Crayak and I knew nothing about. It was technically a breech of the rules, but this was a minor infraction. Crayak would have permitted it even under ordinary circumstances, and could say nothing now that he had so blatantly broken the rules himself.   
All sentient creatures, especially after giving their lives, want to know they mattered. Rachel, after sacrificing so much, deserved to know that her life and, in a way, even her death had mattered. For even as I spoke with her, I saw the remaining Animorphs continue their battle, making sure their friend had not died in vain.   
But there was still Crayak to deal with.   
"Crayak."   
He appeared beside me immediately. "You wish to gloat?"   
"I have nothing to gloat about. You broke the rules. She shouldn't have died."   
"What does it matter? You can see as well as I that you and your pathetic humans win. For now."   
He was right. One lone Yeerk ship escaped Earth. But there were other ships spread throughout the galaxy. One day they would return. But for now, Earth was safe.   
"But at what price have the humans won?" I asked as I directed out attention to Earth again. The death of Rachel profoundly affected the remaining four human Animorphs. Tobias excluded himself from the human race, choosing to live as a hawk. Jake was nearly overcome with guilt, which kept him apart from Cassie and forming long term relationships of any kind with other humans. "This is not the way it should have been, Crayak. She should have lived."   
"And what will you do about it? Break your precious rules?"   
"You already have. I will not break them again. Correcting an error is not against the rules." 


	2. Chapter One

**Breakdown**   
**Chapter One**   
**_One Year Later_**

**__**

Rachel leaned up against the kitchen counter, staring intently at the small TV that sat there on mute. Tobias came up behind her and put his arms around her waist. "Happy Victory Day," he whispered in her ear.   
"Whatever," Rachel muttered.   
Tobias dropped his arms and backed away. "What is it this time?"  
"Does it _have_ to be anything?" Rachel demanded.   
"With you, there's usually something," Tobias muttered. He went to the refrigerator and sighed once the door was open. Three cans of beer were missing from the six-pack that had been full the night before. And it was only nine o'clock. "Hitting the booze a little early today aren't we?"  
"Why shouldn't I?" Rachel slammed the power button on the TV. "Why do they need to have all these parades and specials today? Doesn't anyone else want to forget the whole damned thing ever happened?"   
"Those who forget history are destined to repeat it."   
"Oh, yeah. By forgetting I'm going to invite another race of aliens to enslave the human race. Right." Rachel grabbed her denim jacket. "I'll see you later."   
"Wait, we have that press conference to go to this afternoon."   
"Fuck the press conference," Rachel said. She slammed the apartment door.   
Their apartment building wasn't the best in the city. The elevator was broken once again, so Rachel had to take the stairs down from the third floor apartment. She tried to take them two at a time, but she kept misjudging steps and ended up tumbling down the first two staircases before taking the last one one step at a time while firmly gripping the handrail.   
"I need another beer," she muttered to herself as she left the building. She walked to the drugstore on the corner, but it was closed. "'Because of the holiday'," Rachel read on the sign on the front door. "Because of the fucking holiday." She kicked at the door, but ended up kicking the corner of a brick. "Ow!" she cried as she hopped on one foot. "Stupid brick. Stupid store. Stupid holiday!" The hopping and yelling weren't helping her headache. Rachel sat down on the curb, her head between her knees. She'd been hung over when she'd woken up so she'd grabbed another can first thing. Then another. Then another.   
"Hey lady, you need something?"  
Rachel looked up at the man standing over her. Even in her current state she could see he was a bum. Drunk or sober, she knew that plaid pants and a checked lumber jacket were a bad combination. But he had a brown paper bag in his right hand and she could see a bottle neck sticking out of it. "Um, yeah." She nodded toward the bag. "You got anything in there?"   
The man shook the bag and bottle gently. The both heard the sloshing sound of liquid. "Yep," he said.   
Rachel licked her lips while trying not to look desperate. "Could I, ah, have a sip?"   
The man took a gulp. "Maybe. I'll need something in return, though."   
"Anything," Rachel said. Her toes were throbbing in time with her head. She'd give anything to make them both stop.   
"Well, y'see, you're a very nice looking woman. And it's been a long time since I've had any female companionship."   
Rachel almost laughed. The bum wanted to sleep with her in exchange for a gulp of booze. To part of her it sounded ludicrous, but she'd slept with people for less. Besides, even booze-clouded sex could make some of the pain stop for awhile.   
Carefully, Rachel stood up and tried to put on her most charming smile for the man. "Lead the way."   
Grinning like an idiot, the man took Rachel's arm and led the way to an abandoned warehouse a block or two away. He pulled her past a couple dozen other bums, many of them passed out, to a corner where a lumpy mattress littered with beer bottles lay. "A lovely lady like yourself deserves better, some privacy at least, but it's what I've got to offer."   
Rachel ignored the stares of the conscious street bums who called the warehouse home as she slipped off her jacket and quickly pulled her T-shirt over her head. "It's fine," she said. She kicked off her shoes, pulled off her jeans and underwear, then kicked most of the bottles off the mattress. She laid down and gave her bum the most seductive look she had. "I'll do whatever you want, baby."   
"Whatever" wasn't much. The bum was so drunk that by the time he'd pulled his pants down and put on a condom, he lasted about two minutes before passing out. Rachel pushed him off her in disgust and grabbed his bottle. She gulped down the last bit of bitter whiskey and was about to pull her clothes back on when she noticed she'd drawn a crowd.   
"All you want is booze?" one man asked.   
"A condom, too, is preferable," Rachel said breezily.   
One of the bums happened to have several. _Probably stole them with his booze,_ Rachel thought. He passed them out to his buddies. Rachel lay back down and made herself as comfortable as possible. This wouldn't take long, but she might as well be comfortable for while she had to endure it.   
An hour later, all the men who had had alcohol to spare had had their fun. After vomiting a couple of times, from the booze or the blow jobs or both, Rachel pulled her clothes back on and stumbled out of the warehouse and headed home.   
She came back to an empty apartment. She managed to figure out the gist of a note from Tobias (he'd gone to lunch and wanted her to meet him at the restrant or the press conference). "Fuck that," she muttered and stumbled into the bedroom. She fell face first across the bed and promptly fell asleep.   
About three hours later, Rachel woke up. "Blah," she muttered. She spit a couple times on the bedspread. "Yuck, what the hell?" Slowly her memory came back to her in fractured images. The first bum, the trade of sex for booze. The warehouse, the dozen or so men who had lined up like school children. . . .   
"Oh, oh no," Rachel moaned. She stumbled to the bathroom adjacent to the bedroom and threw up in the sink.   
After washing out the sink and her mouth, Rachel looked at herself in the mirror and groaned when she saw her reflection. She had dark circles under her eyes and dirt smudges on her face. And. . . "Oh my God." A hickey on her neck. She hadn't thought any of the men had stay conscious long enough to give her a hickey. Then she realized how much her clothes reeked and took them off carefully before surveying the damage to the rest of her body.   
Mostly it was just dirt, but she saw a few scratches from fingernails, assorted bruises from her falls down the stairs, and her left arm had several long scratches that were all scabbed over by now. From the look of them, they were caused by broken glass. "Tobias will kill me when he gets back." Then she remembered his note and the press conference. He was there and, if by a miracle she remembered correctly, it was starting now. She turned on the radio then turned on the shower. She didn't need to find a station: anything involving the Animorphs was important enough to break into every radio and network TV station, and even some cable channels.   
"Good afternoon." It was Jake talking. "On behalf of my friends and I, I'd like to say thank you for inviting us here. Rachel is unable to be here due to illness -"   
"That's saying the least," Rachel said as she stepped into the shower.   
" - and sends her regrets."   
Rachel shook her head as she poured sweet smelling soap onto her bath sponge. "You are quite possibly the king of bull shit, Jake. In politics, anyway. I'm glad some things don't change."   
Rachel half listened to the broadcast as she scrubbed her body and hair furiously, trying to remove the dirt and stench from herself. She didn't understand why anyone but Jake had to be at the press conference since he was the only one who spoke, going on endlessly about the importance of the day, and the importance of remembering the others who fought, like James and his group of Animorphs. No one else spoke until the press got to ask questions. Mostly inane things like what Marco's next Hollywood project was or what endangered species Cassie would save next.   
No one even mentioned Rachel.   
"What did I expect?" Rachel asked as she stepped out of the shower. The conference was ending so she turned off the radio. She wrapped a towel around her body, then another around her hair. She picked up her pile of stinking clothes and considered taking them to the laundromat, but of course it would also be closed. Besides, she wasn't sure if she wanted these clothes around as a reminder of today. So she grabbed a trash bag from the kitchen and threw them in. As soon as she was dressed, and had taken about ten aspirin for her headache, she took the clothes to the back of the building and threw them in the dumpster. When she got back to the apartment, Tobias was pacing around the living room.   
"Thank God you're back!" he said as he crossed the room to give Rachel a tight hug. "I was scared to death. You stormed off this morning, then didn't show up for lunch or the conference and weren't here. . . . I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you."   
Rachel smiled. How could she have been mad at this guy earlier? "Same here. I'm sorry I worried you. I've been here for awhile, I just wasn't feeling up to facing the press. I was just out back throwing some stuff away."   
Tobias smiled and hugged Rachel again. He was glad to have Rachel back to normal and sober again. It was their unwritten rule to not mention her drinking when she was sober, so Tobias didn't say anything about why she'd stormed off earlier, or why she wasn't feeling well. "Come on, let's go have a little private celebration of our own," he whispered as he slid a hand under Rachel's turtleneck sweater, the only shirt she had that would cover all her newly acquired blemishes even though it was really too warm to wear it.   
"No!" Rachel backed away quickly. She'd had enough sex for one day. For a lifetime, perhaps. "I mean, I really am sick," she said with an apologetic smile. "I think I should just sleep." She gave Tobias a chaste kiss on the cheek then went to the bedroom. She hadn't felt tired until the moment she had said it and was fast asleep as soon as she was under the covers.   
After quickly demorphing and morphing, Tobias followed Rachel back to their room and looked at her from the doorway. She'd obviously gone out and gotten hammered and just as obviously, she'd done some things she regretted now. Unfortunately, neither even was unprecedented. He'd noticed Rachel's turtleneck. It was May and way too warm for such an outfit. She was obviously hiding something. But Tobias couldn't bring himself to prove it. If he did, he'd have to confront her, and she'd get angry and drink more and the whole cycle would repeat itself. In some ways, it was better for both of them to live in denial. At least then Tobias knew where she was. Most of the time. 


	3. Chapter Two

**Breakdown**   
**Chapter Two**

Tobias gently shook Rachel's shoulder. "Rachel. Rachel, wake up. You have a phone call."   
Rachel's eyes fluttered open. She groaned when she felt the general ache throughout her body. "What?"   
"A phone call," Tobias repeated. "It's Jordan."   
"Oh. Kay." Rachel winced as the pounding in her head returned when she tried to sit up. "I'll be there in a minute." Tobias nodded and left.   
Fighting nausea with every movement, Rachel slowly pushed herself out of bed. She needed more aspirin, obviously. She slowly left the room and went to the table that held the phone in the hallway. Rachel picked up the receiver. "Jordan?"   
"Hi, Rachel!"   
Rachel winced. "Please, keep your voice down."   
"Oh, so you really are sick."   
"Don't sound so excited. How did you hear?"   
"Mom. She's been freaking out all afternoon. She's been in meetings all day, so she only heard highlights of the press conference. Including the part about you being sick."   
"They made Mom work today? Nobody else in the city has to."   
"That's what I thought. I didn't even think Mom would have a job for long after the war ended. In science fiction movies, events like. . . that are supposed to usher in a new era of peace, love and understanding."   
"Yeah. But I never believed that. People are always going to sue eachother. We're inherently greedy like that."   
"I guess. So, anyway, Mom can't get out of her meetings long enough to have a proper conversation with you so she asked me to call to make sure you're not dead."   
"I'm definitely not dead. I kind of wish I was right now, but I'm not quite yet."   
"What is it? The flu? Sara's just getting over that."   
"Um, it might be. I have been throwing up."   
"Yuck. I don't think I'll tell Mom that. She'd freak and make you tell her where you live so she can take care of you. I told her she needs to let up a little bit. You're 17, legally emancipated, not to mention a bona fide super hero. You can take care of yourself."   
"I don't feel like it now."   
Jordan paused for a moment. "Y'know, Rachel, you do sound really bad. Maybe you should tell me where you are. I haven't seen you in months."   
"No, you can't come over here," Rachel said quickly. She'd worked hard to keep her home a secret from her friends and family. She'd visited the other Animorphs, or she'd seen their homes on TV. They were all beautiful houses with perfectly manicured lawns in sitcom worthy neighborhoods. Except for Marco; he had a mansion in Beverly Hills. Rachel and Tobias were the only ones who hadn't made a name of some kind for themselves. Rachel remained secluded in the apartment most of the time - leaving only when she needed to convince someone to buy beer for her, or when she got really sick of Tobias mostly - and Tobias was a marginally successful artist and writer, working under a pseudonym. Neither of them wanted the fame and fortune that came with being an Animorph. It was way too shallow. "I'm going to take some more medicine," Rachel assured her sister. "Then I'm going back to bed. I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow."   
"And I'm sure Mom will call in the morning to be sure of that."   
"I'll be expecting her. Tell her and Sara I love them."   
"I will. Um, you sure I can't come over."   
"Positive. I'll talk to you later."   
Jordan sighed. "Okay. Bye."   
Both sisters hung up her phone.   
"So how's the family?" Tobias called from the living room.   
Rachel shuffled to the end of the hallway then leaned against the wall to talk to Tobias. "Okay. Sara's getting over the flue. Mom heard I wasn't at the press conference so she had Jordan call to see how I was doing because Mom's in meetings all day."   
"How are you doing?" Tobias stood up from the couch and crossed to Rachel. "Are you feeling better?"   
"Not really. I think I need some aspirin."   
"You go back to bed and I'll bring you some." He offered an arm to Rachel, but she waved him off so he went to the kitchen. The aspirin bottle was already on the counter. When Tobias opened it, his suspicion was confirmed: Rachel had already had some aspirin that day and had taken several. She really shouldn't have more, but they'd been through this before. After an episode like this morning's, Rachel would appear to be sincerely sorry and determined to be a model citizen from then on. But if she was crossed, especially when it came to medicine to make her head and other random aches stop, she was likely to leave again. She'd left for three days at a time before come back several times. So Tobias tapped three pills into his palm, a compromise between what Rachel wanted and what she could safely have, poured a glass of water and took both back to the bedroom.   
Rachel was sitting up in the bed with the bedspread pulled up to her chin. She frowned when Tobias held out the aspirin. "Only three? I need a lot more than that for this headache."   
"You can have more in a few hours," Tobias said as Rachel gulped down the pills and water. "You should go back to sleep."   
"But I'm not tired," Rachel said, but Tobias could tell she was lying. Even with a monster hangover, Rachel didn't want to seem weak. She thought sleep was a sign of weakness, but didn't see anything wrong with drinking to excess? Sometimes Tobias really wanted to get into her head to figure her out.   
"Then stay here and rest. You're not feeling well. I don't want you to make it worse."   
Rachel frowned. "Fine."   
The look in her eyes worried Tobias. It was angry, dangerous. Was she already planning on taking off again? He hadn't done anything to really piss her off, and unless something extreme happened, she was always sober for at least a week before she went on another binge. Then again, she'd never been under the stress of the anniversary of the end of the war. Everyone had their own way of dealing with the war's end. Rachel's was the only method that was self-destructive and was progressively getting worse.   
Tobias gently kissed Rachel's forehead. She was almost asleep already so Tobias grabbed his pillow and took it to the couch. He had a perch in the corner of the bedroom where he usually slept in his hawk body, but sharing a room with hung over Rachel was never fun. She tossed and turned and had a habit of talking in her sleep. He'd learned after the first few times to sleep perched on the couch if he wanted any rest that night.   
When the bedroom light clicked off, Rachel opened one eye, then the other. She listened intently as Tobias went to the living room and the old couch squeaked as he laid down. The TV turned on, so Rachel had a little freedom to move around. She quietly changed into more seasonable, and much sexier, clothes, then did her hair and make up all by moonlight since she didn't want to risk Tobias seeing the bedroom light under the door.   
When the TV turned off, Rachel jumped back into bed, in case Tobias came to check on her again. When he hadn't half an hour later, Rachel knew it was safe. She grabbed her purse from under the bed and tiptoed out.   
She paused when she reached the living room to listen for Tobias. She heard deep, even _human_ breathing. Something wasn't quite right with that, but -   
"Ow!" Rachel's arm shot up to shield her eyes from the sudden light that flooded the room.   
"Where are you doing, Rachel?"   
"Tobias! Um, I was getting more aspirin. Did I wake you? I'm sorry."   
"You're dressed in cutoffs and a tank top and have your purse just to get aspirin?" Tobias got up, crossed to Rachel and put his hands on her shoulders. "Rachel, what's wrong? You need to talk to me."   
Rachel pushed his hands away. "Nothing's wrong."   
Tobias reached for Rachel again and caught her left arm. The arm covered in scratches from the broken bottle. "I think this is something, Rachel." Rachel turned her head away. The movement happened to reveal the hickey on her neck. She hadn't been able to see it well enough to cover it with makeup. Tobias gently ran his thumb over it. "And this. . . . What's happening, Rachel?"   
"I need to go out. Let me go."   
"Not until you talk to me."   
"And not until you let me go."   
"I can't, Rachel. I don't want this," he indicated her arm, "or worse to happen to you again."   
"Nothing's going to happen. I'm just gonna go down to the gas station and -"   
"Ask someone to buy a case of beer for you? In return for what? A can? Two? Money? Sex?"   
Rachel gasped. Tobias had never even hinted that he suspected anything.   
"That's how you go the hickey, isn't it? You wanted booze, so you offered some guy sex!" Rachel mumbled something. "What?"   
"I didn't offer him anything."   
Tobias stared at Rachel in shock. "You mean he -"   
"No, he didn't rape me. But it wasn't my idea."   
Now Tobias' shock turned to anger. "Why do you do this, Rachel? You are worth more than that! And so is our relationship. Or so I thought."   
"Tobias, you're everything to me."   
"No, Rachel. The booze is. You have a problem and we've ignored it for long enough. I want to help you, but you're gonna have to make a choice."   
Rachel gritted her teeth. "I don't have a problem. If I had a problem, you'd know it!" She pushed Tobias hard, practically throwing him across the room. She picked up her purse from where she'd dropped it at some point, then ran from the apartment.   
Tobias lay on the floor for a moment, stunned, before he picked himself up. Should he call someone? Her mother, the police? No. Naomi would have a heart attack, and who would believe that Rachel the Animorph was an alcoholic? On the rare occasions she was seen out in public, she was nothing less than perfect.   
_Maybe I should just leave her_. . . but he couldn't do that. He couldn't let Rachel make the wrong choice in this situation. He'd have to find her himself. He ran from the apartment and down the stairs in his bare feet, taking stairs two or three at a time. But when he reached the street there was no sign of Rachel.   
Tobias quickly demorphed. He was close to the two hour limit already. With all of Rachel's problems he hadn't felt ready to give up his wings permanently. He'd never been thankful for his reluctance before tonight. It took a moment of concentration, but he soon felt his bird body grow stockier. His head and beak reshaped themselves into the rounder face of an owl. His feathers changed, became white and soundless. In minutes he was a great horned owl and with a few powerful flaps he was in the air, searching for Rachel.   
Rachel was several blocks away at this point. She knew as soon as Tobias was able he'd come after her, and he'd be able to morph. She'd considered doing so herself, but realized she wouldn't be able to carry her purse in any practical morph she had. And she wasn't wearing her morphing suit. Her clothes were tight, but not that tight, and a naked young woman would last two minutes in this neighborhood. Already Rachel attracting the attention of all the homeless men she passed.   
Rachel had never been happier to see a 7-11 in her life. She sprinted the last few yards to the door and once inside ducked into the candy aisle so no prying animal eyes could see her.   
The woman behind the counter looked up from her tabloid and eyed Rachel skeptically. "No soliciting in here, darling."   
Rachel was confused for a moment, but then realized her clothes made her look like a hooker. "Oh, I'm not. I'm hiding from my boyfriend."   
The woman's look softened immediately. "Oh you poor thing. The bastard gave you those scratches and bruises?" Rachel nodded miserably. She didn't care if she was lying. Besides, he'd gripped her arm so hard she wouldn't have been surprised to find finger shaped bruises forming. "Do you want to call the cops?"   
"No, I'll be fine. I think he ran the other way."   
"You're lucky. But why don't you want to turn him in? You're a beautiful young woman, you can do better."   
Rachel sighed and said quietly, "No, I can't."   
"What?"   
"Um, I just don't want to. They. . . they haven't listened before."   
The woman snorted. "Bastards."   
"Yeah." Rachel wandered to the back of the store to where the alcohol was. She picked up a case of Budweiser and, after a moment of consideration, a bottle of it too. She could carry that around with her easier. She took her drinks up to the clerk.   
"I'll need to see some ID," the woman said apologetically.   
Rachel restrained herself from cursing. She made a point of digging through her purse, apparently unable to find her wallet. "My boyfriend probably took it for my credit cards."   
"I'm sorry, honey, but I can't sell you this without an ID. I could easily lose my job if I did."   
"Whatever," Rachel muttered. She grabbed her purse and stalked out. She looked up at the sky as soon as she was outside, to be sure Tobias hadn't followed here. She didn't see him, but that wasn't a guarantee he wasn't nearby.   
"Rachel?"   
Rachel jumped, ready to fight, adrenaline pumping. But she relaxed as soon as she saw who was coming towards her. It wasn't Tobias, or anyone he knew who could bring her back. It was Marissa, one of the prostitutes Rachel had met out here. The nicest one of the bunch. "Hi, Marissa."   
"So it is you! How you doin', girl? Watchu doin' out here? Ain't seen you in ages."   
"I've been. . . around."   
Marissa appraised Rachel's outfit. "You workin' a corner tonight?"   
"Not exactly."   
"you'd make good money off it. Wit your looks, damn, you'd be rich!"   
"Like you're not?" Marissa had a shapely body and the loveliest chocolate colored skin Rachel had ever seen and beautiful shoulder length hair she highlighted. She could have been a model or an actor, but Marissa said she had too much fun on the street.   
"I'm not. You know how much shit cost now?"   
That was the other thing keeping Marissa out of show business. The needle tracks on her arms were the only blemishes on her skin. When she was paid after a job, the first thing Marissa did most nights was find her dealer and buy as much as she could. _If Tobias wants someone with a problem, he only needs to look at Marissa._   
"I don't. The closest I get to any shit is alcohol."   
Marissa nodded. She didn't mind that, comparatively, Rachel was a saint. Rachel was good company on slow nights and there weren't many people out there who shared Marissa's desire to talk about anything but the past. "So watchu out here for?"   
"Looking for a place that won't card me. Or someone to buy for me," Rachel added with a pleading look for Marissa.   
"Sorry, I ain't got no ID. I don't know of any open place that don't card, neither. But I may have some back at my place. You need it now?"   
"Hey, babies. What's it cost for both of you lovely ladies to spend some time with me?"   
Marissa rolled her eyes at Rachel. She hadn't seen the man behind her, but she could already tell from his tone of voice that he was new to the scene. Probably a bored husband. Rachel stifled a giggle. She and Marissa had gossiped about this type of guy before.   
Marissa spun around to face the man. "Watchu mean, what do it cost?" she demanded. "Men like you make me sick. Thinkin' you can buy sex, jus' 'cause we be a couple of fine women out at night. Go fuck youself, it's all you can afford." She grabbed Rachel's arm and led her past the shocked man. Both were fighting against giggles, but when they rounded the corner they lost.   
"That was priceless!" Rachel gasped. "The way his eyes bugged out of his head!"   
"You think he never heard fuck before!" Marissa was close to collapsing with laughter.   
When they were calmed down, Marissa and Rachel stood up. "What was I sayin' before he came? Oh yeah, you be needin' stuff now?"   
"I don't want to cut into your work. I can wait."   
"You know where I live, right?" Marissa pulled a key out of her bra and tossed it to Rachel. "Go there. Chill. Jist leave the door unlocked in case I be comin' back wit someone. Help youself to whatever."   
"You're a lifesaver, Marissa."   
"'Course I be. Now git. Most ain't stupid like that one. They don't talk to two girls at one."   
Marissa's apartment was only a block away and, despite Marissa's many unsavory habits, it was actually in a better neighborhood than Rachel's. No one was passed out on the front stoop, and inside it smelled of disinfectant, rather than dirt and cigarettes. She even had a working elevator.   
It took Rachel next to no time to find Marissa's place. Once inside, the first thing Rachel found was the refrigerator. Unfortunately, it was clean. Nothing stronger than Mountain Dew was inside.   
Rachel wandered around the apartment, looking first in kitchen cupboards, then in more obscure places like bathroom closets for some booze. She found several baggies of drugs and some needles, and was actually tempted to try some, but she wasn't about to contract some sort of disease by using Marissa's needle.   
Rachel was just peeking into Marissa's room when she heard the front door open. "Rachel?"   
Rachel jumped away from the bedroom like she'd been caught doing something wrong. "Yeah, Marissa?"   
Marissa came into the hallway. "How you feel 'bout workin' it tonight?"   
"It?"   
"Guy came up to me right after you left and asked what it cost to spend time wit you. I say you ain't one of us, but he really like you. He say he pay anything."   
Rachel's brow furrowed. "How much is 'anything'?"   
Marissa rolled her eyes at Rachel's naivety. "Anything you want, girl! You could easily ask for a thousand. 'Specially if he be wantin' somethin' kinky. No more sleepin' for booze, Rachel. You be workin' for real money!"   
"But where - and how? I've never done this with a sober guy before. Never done it witch a random guy when _I_ was sober."   
"Pretend he be that fine boyfriend you always talkin' 'bout. And you use my room. I got enough shit to last me till tomorrow."   
Rachel took a deep breath. She was going to need more than the twenty she'd left the apartment with. "Where's he at?"   
Marissa grinned. "In the hall."   
"Okay." Rachel started for the door. "Wait, Marissa!"   
"_Now_ what?"   
"What do I say first? My price? What does he want?"   
"That first. When you know what he want, then you give him a price. Now go. He'll leave!" Marissa gave Rachel a hard shove towards the door.   
Rachel stumbled across the living room and kitchen. She still wasn't completely recovered from her hangover. Her hand was trembling when she reached for the door knob. "Um, hi," Rachel whispered when she had the door open. Then she took a steadying breath and forced herself to look into the man's eyes. "Hello," she said with more confidence and as seductively as she could manage.   
And it wasn't hard to want to seduce this man once she saw him. He was Rachel's height with brunette hair and honey skin and built like no one she'd ever seen in real life.   
The man licked his lips when he got a good look at Rachel. "Hello yourself."   
Rachel leaned against the door frame, trying to ignore the dull ache in her head and the trembling of her fingers. Instead she focused on his dark brown eyes, his sensuous moth, and the burning feeling his presence was eliciting between her legs. "I hear you asked for me?"   
"I think every many on the street wants to ask for you, I just got here first."   
"Mm, well, aren't you the lucky one." Rachel could feel herself getting into the act now. She reached out a hand for the man's shoulder. "Why don't you come in and we can talk about this." She trailed her hand around and down to his chest, then took the man's necktie and used it as a leash to lead him to Marissa's bedroom.   
Both the man and Rachel were shocked when they entered Marissa's room. Marissa had ever S/M toy Rachel had ever imagined, and then some. Rachel almost lost her nerve then, but she reminded herself of the money she'd be getting and what she could get with that money. _Besides, maybe he just wants a blow job._   
The man slipped from Rachel's grasp and wandered around the room, occasionally touching the toys Marissa had on display.   
"So what did you have in mind?" Rachel asked the man as soon as she slipped back into the right mindset.   
"Nothing like this," the man said as he admired Marissa's handcuff collection. He looked to Rachel. "None of this is yours, is it?"   
"I'm afraid not."   
"Then I won't ask to use it. Much," he added as he picked up a handful of silk scarves. "I'm a simple guy. How much would you charge for, say, being tied to the bed posts with these. Blindfolded and gagged."   
Rachel really didn't like the sound of that. When she had played with Tobias, she was always the dominant one. _So give him an outrageous price and he'll leave!_ "Fifteen hundred."   
"That's awful expensive, isn't it?"   
"You get what you pay for."   
"How about a thousand and I'll eat you out like no one has before."   
Rachel couldn't keep her eyebrows from shooting up in surprise. The man couldn't fail at his promise, since no one had even offered her oral before. Tobias was too shy and the drunks only thought of themselves. But it sounded intriguing. "If you'll do that first, it's a deal."   
The man smirked. "You don't trust me to stay awake long enough."   
"It's happened before."   
The man stepped close to Rachel. "Is it any extra to be rough?" he whispered.   
"I charge extra only when you want it to be tame," Rachel whispered back.   
"Good," the man hissed. He shoved Rachel back on the bed without warning then crawled over her. "You're not going to forget this. . .?"  
"Rachel."   
"Rachel," the man finished. He unbuttoned her shorts. "I'm Alex. You're not going to forget this."   
_You already said that,_ Rachel though absently. But soon she had more important things to think about. 


	4. Chapter Three

**Breakdown**   
**Chapter Three**

Marissa slammed the door of her room, jarring Rachel out of her sleep.   
"Have fun last night?" Marissa asked as she stumbled to her dresser.   
"Huh?"   
"How much you make?"   
Rachel sat up, rubbing her wrists. The scarves had been tied just a little too tight and had rubbed her wrists and ankles raw. She still hadn't quite recovered. "Uh, a thousand."   
Marissa tried a low whistle, but ended up blowing a raspberry instead. She laughed as she pulled out clothes and dumped them on the floor. "Know what you should do first?"   
"Get someone to guy out 7-11's beer cooler for me?"   
"Get an ID. My dealer knows a guy. I need ta go see him anyway." Marissa pulled on a halter top. "You're man had a couple shots and snorts wit me. Some of my best shit, too." Marissa fell back on her bed, still only half dressed.   
Rachel grabbed her shorts from the floor. "You can get some more, right?"   
"Why? You wanna try? I still got some."   
"After I get my beer." Rachel picked up her shirt, then sighed when she saw it. Alex had wanted rough, he'd gotten rough. The shirt was little more than a rag now. "Damn."   
Marissa again attempted a whistle and failed just as miserably. "You two did get rough. Way to go, girl."   
"Can I borrow something?"  
Marissa flailed her arms, trying to gesture to her closet. " Help youself."   
Rachel tried to find something modest. She had enough money so she wouldn't have to sleep with anyone for booze for awhile. But Marissa didn't know the meaning of modest. Rachel finally settled on a denim halter top. "You want anything?"   
"Nope," Marissa said. "I'm gonna take another shot, then go find my guy for more. I'll tell him to have his guy come by later for the ID. If you still be wantin' it."   
Rachel shook her head. It'd been too long since she'd had a drink. "Sure. I'll be back soon."   
Marissa was bent over her dresser again, pulling out shorts and mini skirts. "See ya'."   
Rachel was still shocked every time she entered or exited Marissa's building. It was so clean and bright. even on the sunniest days of the year Rachel felt it was over cast in her building.   
"My old building," she told herself as she walked towards the 7-11. She didn't intend to ever go back.   
Rachel stood on the side of the gas pumps that was farthest from the 7-11 building. It didn't take long for someone to approach her from behind. "You need something ma'am?"   
Rachel spun around and quickly inspected the man who'd spoken to her. An unremarkable man, wearing unremarkable clothes. He seemed to be trying almost too hard to be inconspicuous. Marissa had pointed this type of person out to Rachel before: most likely a police informant looking for people breaking the law just to report them. But Rachel probably wouldn't have trusted him anyways. What man who's almost thirty years old calls a woman who can't even pass for 21 "ma'am"?   
"No, I'm just waiting for a friend," Rachel said with a charming smile.  
"Boyfriend?"   
"Nope, girlfriend." Rachel smiled again when the man jumped slightly in surprise. She almost always got that reaction with that clarification. If she said she was waiting for her boyfriend (or any male companion) it was assumed she was using a euphemism for a client, like Alex. But waiting for a woman was harmless to these people.   
The man loitered around the station for almost 20 minutes, causing Rachel to get antsy. She wanted to get a drink, but this station obviously carded, and she couldn't ask anyone to buy anything for her with the informant stalking around.   
Rachel practically jumped on the first single guy she saw approaching the 7-11 after the informant left to answer a page, she was getting that desperate.   
"Hi! Would you mind buying something in there for me?"   
The guy, who was probably just over 21, looked Rachel up and down with a leer. "If you can pay me, sure."   
Rachel pulled a twenty out of her back pocket. "Ten on beer for me, ten for you to do with as you like."   
The guy frowned at the bill. He'd obviously wanted something more physical, but Rachel was going to avoid doing that if possible. He did take the money and in ten minutes, Rachel was carrying a bag with two cases of beer back to Marissa's place.   
Marissa was sitting on the floor of her living room. Sitting across from her was the man from the 7-11. The one Rachel had pegged as an informant.   
He glanced at the bag Rachel was carrying. "Guess you did need something after all."   
Marissa took a long drag on her cigarette then passed it to the man. "You know eachother?"   
"Kinda," Rachel said warily.   
"This be Malcolm," Marissa said. "He be the one that's gonna get you your ID."   
Malcolm smirked. "It's a lot quicker than waiting for someone who looks trustworthy enough to buy your booze for you." He stood up and walked slowly around Rachel, appraising her, as Rachel popped open a beer. It was all she could do to keep from sighing with relief as she felt the beer travel to her stomach. It'd been too long since her last drink.   
"Very nice. Very, very nice," Malcolm said softly, still evaluating Rachel. "No wonder you've taken up residence with Marissa. You two must make a killing."   
"Hey, I work alone," Marissa said. She frowned as she finished her cigarette. "She just be crashin' here." She started to pat her pockets, looking for more drugs.   
Malcolm started to pull things out of a brown paper bag that sat on Marissa's coffee table. Eyeglasses, sunglasses, high necked blouses, a lap top, a digital camera and a few other props. Rachel looked them over carefully. "What's all this for?"   
"Sometimes people need to look older, 'cause there's no way they can pass for 21," Malcolm explained. He looked at Rachel's face again carefully. "You won't need the glasses, but pick out a sweater. You'll look more respectable if you look like you're wearing clothes. No offense, Marissa."   
"None taken." Marissa had found her bag of heroin and was now standing over her stove, mixing the powder with water so she could shoot it.   
"Go stand by that plain wall," Malcolm instructed. Rachel grabbed a black sweater and pulled it over her head, juggling her beer from hand to hand as she went to the wall. Malcolm double checked that his camera had a disk in it before crossing to a few feet in front of Rachel. "Mind dropping the beer? We need to do this exactly like the real deal."   
Rachel took a last gulp from her can, then threw it towards the garbage. She missed completely and instead hit Marissa in the head as she came back to the living room, carrying a saucepan. "Watch it," she grumbled.   
Rachel giggled. "Sorry." Malcolm gave her a harsh stare. "Sorry," Rachel mumbled again. She tried to focus on the camera, but her eyes weren't cooperating.   
Malcolm sighed, mumbled something about people not able to hold their alcohol, and went back to the table to grab a pair of slightly blue tinted sun glasses. He handed them to Rachel. "They'll mask the glassy eyes, but look legit." Rachel put them on and Malcolm began snapping pictures. He took five before stepping away and telling Rachel she could relax. Rachel threw off the glasses and sweater, then grabbed another beer. Malcolm went to work at the coffee table with his computer while Rachel sat next to Marissa.   
Marissa didn't notice Rachel sitting down. She was concentrating too much on her left arm. She'd tied it off at her bicep with a rubber hose and was now squeezing her fist, trying to get a vein to pop. "Come on," she muttered. She finally stabbed her arm with the needle and drew a little blood. Rachel was fascinated. She'd never actually watched Marissa shoot up before.   
"Why'd ya' draw the blood?"   
"Makin' sure I hit the vein. Can't be wastin' my shit." Marissa shot the blood and the drug back into the vein, then drew a little more blood and did it again. "Makin' sure it all be in there," Marissa explained. She relaxed her fist and pulled off the tube, then sighed as she felt the drug begin to course through her veins. "You want to try?"   
Rachel took a gulp of beer. "Maybe later." She wandered over to Malcolm to look over his shoulder as her ID was created. Right now he only had Rachel's picture on the template for the license.   
"What do you want your name to be?" Malcolm asked.   
Rachel almost gave her real name, but stopped herself just in time. People on the street didn't really have access to TVs, so no one had figured out she was _the_ Rachel yet, but there wasn't a human being on the planet who didn't know the name Rachel Berenson.   
For some reason Rachel was struck with a wave of nostalgia. Later she'd blame it on the beer. "Sara Naomi Jordan."   
Malcolm nodded and typed in the name, then the rest of Rachel's stats, right down to her new birthday. He printed it out on a portable printer, then grabbed a sheet of scrap paper and a pen. "Practice writing your name before putting it down on the license. It has to look natural."   
The first two times, Rachel actually wrote 'Rachel' before her brain and hand finally connected and started writing 'Sara Naomi Jordan' over and over. Her first attempts were stilted and scratchy, but by the time Rachel had filled one side of the paper, she had it down to an art. She wrote it perfectly on her license.   
Malcolm took a portable laminator out of what Rachel's fuzzy mind had dubbed his bag of tricks. As he put the license in to be laminated, Rachel grabbed another beer for herself and one to offer to Malcolm. "It's the least I can do," she told him.   
Malcolm took the beer with a curt nod. After gulping about half of it down he looked to Rachel, who was sitting as his feet now, almost too dizzy to stand. "Shall we discuss payment now?"   
Rachel shrugged. "I guess."   
"Normally I only take cash for these jobs, but I think we could work out a trade agreement. My service for yours, so to speak."   
"Huh?"   
"Come on, you can't be so drunk that you don't get what I'm saying."   
"I'm not as think as you drunk I am," Rachel said, but then she laughed, obviously putting Malcolm on.   
"Even I know what you be talkin' 'bout," Marissa said. "And I be on a good trip." She sighed in contentment.   
"I have to be a lot drunker before I go to bed," Rachel said.   
"Were you drunk last night with Alex?"   
"Alex?"   
"He's my brother. He told me that last night was one of the best lays he ever had. He told half the neighborhood, actually. You're gonna have guys beating down your door tonight."   
"They'd better not," Marissa mumbled.   
"Really?" Rachel asked.   
"Really," Malcolm said. "I could get you warmed up and I'll consider it the payment for the ID."   
Rachel finished her beer. "Sounds like a fair trade." She tried to stand up, but felt so dizzy she collapsed back to the floor. "I don't think I'm going anywhere."   
Malcolm crawled over Rachel. "I don't think that's necessary." 

***

Rachel continued to drink from a beer while she'd been with Malcolm. She needed it to compensate for the unimaginative oaf and the rug burns she was getting on her back. She must have passed out at one point because she woke to Marissa pacing around the living room, looking very agitated.   
"What's wrong?" Rachel rasped. She felt like something had died in her mouth.   
"You're awake!" Marissa dropped down beside Rachel. "I thought he'd killed you."   
"What?"   
"I seen it happen before. A man can do shit to you so you stay asleep. You don't never wake up."   
"I think your high's worn off," Rachel mumbled as she slowly propped herself up. "Where's my beer?"   
"Um, I think Malcolm ran off with it. Something about you not being as good as promised."   
"Fuck him. He left my ID, right?"   
"I think so. I was still outta it when he left."   
"Then I'll go out and buy a whole liquor store. The best stuff they have." Rachel swayed as she stood up. "Or maybe not." She sank back to the floor. "But I need a drink."   
"I've got something better," Marissa said.   
Rachel looked sideways at the needle Marissa was holding out. "I don't think so. I mean that shit's expensive. And, no offense, but sharing needles isn't my thing."   
"I'm clean," Marissa said. "I just got my results back. No horrid diseases are contaminating my blood."   
Rachel picked up the needle with two fingers. "How do I do it?"   
Marissa took the needle back and handed Rachel a rubber tube. "Tie this around your bicep, then make a fist a couple of times. I'll fill the needle." Rachel did as she was told while she watched Marissa put the needle in the saucepan and drew out half a syringe of liquid. She handled the needle reverently as she brought it back to Rachel.   
"Now for a vein." Marissa inspected Rachel's arm and found a vein immediately. "You have large veins."   
Rachel giggled, a combination of nerves and booze. "Is that a compliment?"   
"It makes it easier. This may sting for a moment. . . ." Marissa stuck Rachel with the needle, drew a little blood, then injected the contents into Rachel's vein.   
Rachel winced as Marissa injected the blood-drug cocktail, then again as Marissa drew a little bit more blood and injected it again.   
"It's okay," Marissa said as she withdrew the needle. She pulled off the rubber tube, then patted Rachel's arm. "It should kick in any second now."   
Rachel focused her attention on the tiny spot of blood that had welled up from the needle prick as Marissa did the same procedure to herself. Rachel poked the blood drop smearing it on her arm. She giggled, then looked to Marissa, who was growing frustrated as she searched for a vein. Rachel didn't understand that. She felt so good.   
Marissa finally shot a needleful of heroin into her arm and waited a moment. "Augh! No! The man. . . my dealer. . . the bastard ripped me off."   
"Huh?" Rachel asked. She leaned back so her head rested in Marissa's lap.   
"This shit ain't pure enough to do nothin'." Marissa loaded up the needle again with the last of the cream colored liquid and quickly shot it into her arm without checking to see if she'd found the vein. There was a tense moment, then Marissa sagged and sighed deeply. "That's. . . better."   
Rachel smiled. She couldn't remember the last time she felt this relaxed. "Good. I like you better when you're relaxed."   
Marissa smirked. "I don't think I ever seen you relaxed. You always be all stressed."   
"I have my reasons."   
"We all do." Marissa lifted Rachel's head off her lap, then laid down so their heads were next to eachother.   
"I could fall asleep right here," Rachel said as she stretched slowly and methodically, like a cat.   
"Waste of my smack," Marissa said. "Just relax. Enjoy the feeling while it lasts."   
"I want it to last forever."   
"I'll find more later. I think I have more."   
"You better."   
Marissa smiled. "Know who you remind me of?"   
"Who?"   
"One of those Animorph chicks. You look a lot like her. Um . . . hey, her name be Rachel, too."   
Without the drug-induced drowsiness, Rachel would have bolted. But she felt too good to do much now. "You know about her?"   
"She kicked ass. She looked death in the face and came back. I always thought she be a natural for the street."   
Rachel groaned and rolled over onto her side. "I thought we didn't talk about our pasts."   
"Who was talkin' 'bout what past?"  
"My name is Rachel."   
"Yeah."   
"That's how I started my diary. When it all started."   
"Watchu talkin' 'bout, Rachel?"   
Rachel bolted upright. "I'm Rachel," she cried. "I'm Rachel. I'm the Animorph."   
"Whoa," Marissa murmured. She sat up and hugged Rachel. "Calm down, girl. I'm gonna find more shit. You need it."   
"No!" Rachel clung to Marissa. "No, please. Don't leave me."   
"Okay! Okay, Rachel. I be here. I ain't leavin'."   


  



	5. Chapter Four

**Breakdown**   
**Chapter Four**

Rachel woke up slowly, wincing as she stretched. She was going to have to start demanding hazard pay if she met any more men like 'John'. John was one of Marissa's regular customers, but when he'd heard about the new girl staying with her, he decided to take a break from his routine. John was one of those guys who loved S/M and since he'd been to Marissa's before, he knew how to use her toys and had tried to use them all on Rachel.   
Slowly Rachel sat up and checked the night stand. Her $1500 was still sitting where John had left it. It was the best she'd done yet. Two nights ago she'd made only a couple hundred because the guy had wanted nothing but plain, missionary position, "vanilla" sex. Last night had been her night off. Rachel had begun to feel guilty about cutting into Marissa's business by using the bedroom all the time, so she suggested they alternated nights in the bedroom. Rachel enjoyed the evening's rest, but Marissa apparently enjoyed her work too much. Rachel had distinctly heard a man's voice the night before, along with Marissa whimpering and begging him to stop. It had worried Rachel the first time she'd heard Marissa' do that, but by now she'd learned making the woman beg was a common demand from men.   
As Rachel pulled clothes out of Marissa's closet, she began making a mental list of what she needed to buy with her money. Clothes. Booze. Food. Drugs. The last two were part of a collective fund both women contributed to. Rachel's booze was separate. Marissa preferred to get her buzz from heroin or whatever drug she had at the moment. With Rachel contributing now, they'd had cocaine, marijuana, LSD and methamphetamine. It had been a wild couple of days and Rachel was just beginning to feel the first twinges of withdrawal. _Gotta find more._   
Rachel stumbled from the bedroom towards the kitchen. "Hey Marissa," she called as she passed the living room, "we got any shit left?" She pulled her last beer from the refrigerator. Marissa didn't answer.   
Rachel gulped from her beer, then looked back into the living room. "Marissa?" The other woman was lying on the couch. _Weird,_ Rachel thought. Marissa was usually up early to satisfy a morning craving. "Hey, Marissa," Rachel said as she went to her friend. She knelt by the couch and prodded Marissa.   
Marissa still didn't move.   
"Okay, now you're scaring me. Joke's over, Marissa." Rachel shook Marissa hard.   
Marissa finally moved. Her head rolled over, moving her hair away from her arm, where a needle was sticking out.   
"Shit!" Rachel gasped as she fell backwards. She cautiously went back to Marissa and checked her throat for a pulse. Nothing. Her skin was cool and clammy.   
"No," Rachel whispered. "God, no." Frustrated and feeling helpless, Rachel shook Marissa's body forcefully, but of course got no response. It was when she sat back on her heels that Rachel noticed the faint series of small bruises on Marissa's throat.   
"What the hell?" Rachel placed her fingers over the purple marks. They were a bit larger than her fingers and spread farther apart, but nothing besides a strangle hold could have caused the marks.   
"Why?" Rachel asked. "What did you do, Marissa?"   
She brushed back a lock of Marissa's hair, then shuddered when she saw the dark mark around the glassy brown eye. "I've gotta get out of here." Rachel was barely able to contain her panic as she grabbed her money and purse from Marissa's bedroom. She would have grabbed a change of clothes, but she had to get out of that apartment right then or she felt she was likely to have a full blown panic attack.   
Rachel ran from the apartment without looking back. 

***

Rachel walked the streets with no real destination in mind, just a need to get as far from Marissa's apartment as possible.   
Her withdrawal symptoms were getting progressively worse as she walked. The half can of beer she had drunk earlier hadn't even begun to take the edge off. Rachel went into the next grocery store she found and bought the largest bottle of liquor with her fake ID that she could carry easily. She didn't even look at the label until she had ducked down an alley to take a swig and almost spit it out.   
"Whiskey. Yuck." It was one of the most vile things Rachel had tasted, but it made her throat tingle rather pleasantly and already her withdrawal was dulled. She figured if she drank enough of the whiskey the pain would be completely deadened until she could buy more drugs. She went farther down the alley and hid behind a pile of empty crates to finish her bottle. 

***

Rachel woke later, shivering and with a massive headache. She was curled up between piles of wooden crates, her arm and the empty whiskey bottle serving as her only pillow. She stood up and nearly fainted. Her head was pounding and all of her muscles were screaming at the sudden exertion. She shivered again, but couldn't figure out why. It was only mid afternoon.   
"Gotta get help," she muttered to herself, though she wasn't sure what she needed help for. With one hand trailing along the wall for support, Rachel stumbled out of the alley and down the street.   
She had no particular destination in mind, and didn't start to register anything as familiar until sundown. By now she could hardly stand due to her shaking knees, and seeing straight wasn't easy either. But through her blurred vision she recognized the seedy apartment buildings around her. She was almost home.   
"Home," she said weakly, testing out the word. Did she really have such a place anymore? She kept walking, hoping she'd recognize the next building as her own.   
An hour or so after sunset, Rachel couldn't walk anymore. Her feet hurt and her whole body was shaking, almost seizure like. She finally lowered herself to the curb and wrapped her shaking arms around her trembling body, willing the pain to go away, _just go away_.   
"Rachel?"   
Rachel slowly lifted her head at the sound of her name.   
"Rachel! Oh thank God.   
Someone was next to her suddenly and he wrapped her in a strong hug.   
"What -"   
"God, you're hot. But shivering. How long - Where have - no, never mind. Come on, let's get you inside." The owner of the voice tried to lift Rachel to her feet, but her legs wouldn't support her. She felt strong arms around her again and felt herself lifted into the air.   
"Who. . . "   
"Sh, don't talk," the voice said. "It's me, Rachel. It's Tobias. We're going home. We're almost there. It's just down the street."   
"Home," Rachel said quietly as she drifted off to sleep. 

***

Rachel didn't remember much of the next few days. She slept a lot, and when she was awake, she was too tired to do anything but lay in bed, staring at the ceiling mostly. But she was always aware of Tobias next to her bed, gently holding her hand, or helping her drink or eat a little food.   
"Why are you still here?" Rachel asked weakly when she had the strength to do more than just lay in bed.   
"Because I," Tobias looked away from her face, which had an ugly hand-shaped bruise on one cheek, "I love you."   
Rachel smirked slightly. "Love? No one loves me."   
She was asleep again before Tobias could argue. 

***

After a week of bed rest, Rachel was finally strong enough to start moving around again. The first thing she did on her first trip to the kitchen was open the fridge to look for beer.   
"I got rid of all the booze," Tobias said from behind her.   
Rachel jumped back. "Why do you think I was looking for that?"   
"It was your favorite painkiller," Tobias said sadly, "and I can only imagine the pain you're in right now."   
"I'm fine," Rachel said. "I was looking for. . . a snack. Yogurt. Do we have any?"   
"I haven't really gone grocery shopping lately. I've been too. . . I've been busy."   
"Yeah. Of course. I, um, think I have some money still. I could go get some basic stuff."   
"You could get a lot more than that with what I found in your purse."   
"You went through my purse?"   
"I wanted some kind of clue as to what you'd been doing the last week."   
Rachel shook her head, not quite believing this. _What happened to quiet, unobtrusive Tobias?_   
_He left before you did_, another voice in Rachel's head said. "Okay, fine. I don't want to argue. Can I just have my wallet and my money so I can get stuff?"   
"You're in no shape to be going out grocery shopping. And I don't. . . I mean, you're not. . . damn."   
"You don't trust me," Rachel finally said.   
"I want to Rachel, but I can't."   
"Why not?"   
"When I found you, you stunk of booze and were dressed like. . . like a hooker. Then I brought you in and saw the bruises everywhere and. . . " he crossed the room and took her left arm. He pulled it out and carefully turned it so they could see the dark marks on the inside of her elbow. "And these."   
"So?"   
"They're needle tracks, Rachel! Between your clothes and the money and these, I gathered a pretty good idea of what you've been up to this week. And probably every other time you've run away."   
Rachel laughed bitterly. "Tobias, you have no idea what it's like out there."   
"No, I don't. And you shouldn't, either. This," he shook her arm, "is too much. I love you, Rachel, and I want to trust you. But when you come home in the throes of drug withdrawal, I can't. I just can't."   
"Fine then." Rachel jerked her arm away. "Who asked you to trust me? Who asked you to love me? I'm just going to get my stuff and get out of here and you'll never have to worry about trusting me again."   
"Rachel, no." Tobias jumped in front of her, blocking the way back to their room. "You're right, no one asked me to love you, but I do. Doesn't that count for something?"   
"Without trust, there is no love," Rachel said coldly. She spun around on her heel and marched out of the apartment. "Don't come after me this time," she called over her shoulder just before slamming the door shut.   
Tobias grabbed the door knob and twisted it, but didn't open the door. .Why was he always the one chasing after her? He loved her more than anything or anyone on Earth but. . . didn't someone once say that if you loved someone, let her go? Maybe it was time to do that.   
He checked the kitchen. His two hours were almost up. And for the first time in a long time, Tobias didn't feel any guilt as he demorphed. He hopped to an open window and flapped out into the cool night air. He hadn't gone flying a long time. 


	6. Chapter Five

**Breakdown**   
**Chapter Five**

After the first flight of stairs, Rachel started to hope Tobias wouldn't listen to her and would come after her. By the time she reached the ground level she wanted to crawl back into her bed. But that would mean not only seeing Tobias again, but climbing up three flights of stairs.   
She patted her pockets, hoping she had some money that had been forgotten. Enough at least for a beer, though she wouldn't have minded a fifty or a hundred, enough to get a hotel room or drugs. Or both. But she found nothing.   
_And now there's no one out here to take you in,_ Rachel said to herself. _Marissa, if I ever needed you, it's now._   
Rachel began walking. She knew how to get a room for the night, and maybe a little extra. Marissa had always looked down on the prostitutes who worked only if their john could provide a room. She didn't think it was dignified. And they earned a lot less money. But Rachel understood their reasoning now. If the choice was sleeping with a guy in a small, seedy hotel room, or sleeping alone and cold in an alleyway, almost everyone would choose the hotel.   
A few blocks away from her apartment, Rachel stopped and leaned up against a lamp post. She was too tired to go any farther. She needed to find a guy with a hotel room as soon as she could. She looked down at herself, inspecting her clothes. _I'll never get a room in sweats._ She pulled at the neck of her sweatshirt and checked her shoulder. Yes, she had put a bra on. A sports bra so maybe if the cops came she'd be able to explain herself. She pulled off the sweatshirt and tied it around her waist. As she was rolling up the legs of her sweat pants, she heard a car slow to a stop at the curb. "Hey, baby. What'cha doin'?"   
Rachel stood up slowly, seductively, letting her prospective client see just what he could get. She sauntered closer to the car window. "That depends on who's asking."   
"What' if it's Jake? Jake Berenson?"   
Rachel knew it wasn't really Jake. Jake didn't spend much time in the city anymore, and she doubted her perfect cousin knew this part of the city existed. But Rachel had met some of Marissa's clients before. 'Jake' had visited her several times, as had 'Marco' and the president, every time looking a lot different than he did on TV, or even the last time he visited. Now that she was out here, Rachel understood why: how often do you get to be somebody else? And it was safer. It was easier for the police to find you if you visited a prostitute (or you _were_ a prostitute) under your own name.   
"Well," Rachel said to 'Jake.' "If it's the most powerful man on the planet, then I'm just a lost girl, hoping for a room and some comfort for the evening."   
"I think that's the least I can provide. Can you meet me at the Holiday Inn Express on the next block? I'll get us a room there." Rachel's eyebrows shot up in surprise. 'Jake' laughed. "You said so yourself. I'm the most powerful man on Earth. I can spring for a nice hotel room. Maybe even with a mini-bar. Who shall I tell the desk will be joining me?"   
Rachel said the first name that came to her head and smiled when she realized what she was saying. "Cassie. Cassie Johnson."   
Rachel faintly saw 'Jake' smirk. "You know your history, Cassie. See you in a few." The car was thrown into gear, then sped around the corner. Rachel followed at the briskest pace she could muster. 

***

Rachel blinked furiously and wrinkled her nose when she entered the lobby of the hotel. It had been a long time since she'd been in a place so bright and clean. The hotel was new and the lobby still smelled like it, and harsh cleansers.   
"Can I help you, Miss?" the boy behind the counter asked.   
"Um, yes. I'm here to meet with Jake Berenson."   
The boy rolled his eyes. "Yes. Jake. Of course. You're the Cassie he told me about?"   
"Yeah. Cassie Johnson." _Forgive me, Cassie._   
"I'll give him a call. He can tell you the room number." Rachel nodded, then leaned up against the counter, trying to act relaxed.   
"Here you go, Miss," the boy said after a minute. He handed Rachel the phone.   
"Jake?"   
"Hi, Cassie. I'm in room 236."   
"All right. I'll be up in a minute."   
"I can't wait."   
Rachel forced a smile. "Neither can I." She handed the phone back to the boy. "Thanks."   
"No problem. Enjoy your stay."   
Rachel forced another smile. "I'm sure I will." 

***

Room 236 was a simple room. A small bathroom, a desk, a TV, a king sized bed. And a mini-bar. Rachel found that right away.   
'Jake' grabbed Rachel from behind as soon as he closed the door and began nuzzling her neck. "Who thought I'd ever get to do an Animorph?" he asked.   
Rachel had to fight down a burst of panic. _He doesn't know who you are. He's joking. He's not Jake, you're not Cassie, and neither of you are Animorphs tonight._ "Unless we're playing, you won't tonight. The real Cassie's black, remember?" _And she'd die before doing this._   
"Then let's play," 'Jake' said. "I am Jake Berenson. Leader of the Animorphs. A tiger on the battlefield. . . and off."   
"I'm sure he is," Rachel said through gritted teeth.   
'Jake' kissed Rachel deeply. "You're cold," he said in between kisses down her throat. "And shaking. Come to the bed. I'll have you warmed up in no time." 'Jake' gently led her to the bed and began to undress her when she sat down.   
"Wait," Rachel said as 'Jake' reached for the waist of her sweat pants. "I'm. . . could we maybe have a drink before going any further? It. . . sets the mood better, don't you think?"   
'Jake' looked slightly disappointed, but didn't say anything. He just went to the minibar and grabbed two small bottles. Rachel downed hers almost immediately after opening it. "Much better," she practically purred as she finished it off. She threw her arms around 'Jake' and pulled him down on top of her. "Now I'm ready, fearless leader." 

***

Rachel wasn't sure how long she spent living without knowing if she'd have a roof over her head. She usually did, because even as she grew more emaciated and the needle tracks on her arms grew in number she was beautiful enough to attract attention. She spent a few nights in abandoned warehouses, sharing whatever drugs or booze she had with the inhabitants of the building. In a way she looked forward to those nights. She didn't have to live up to anyone's expectations or perform bizarre acrobatics. If she didn't want to sleep with someone, she could say 'no' and the only repercussion would be she didn't share that bum's beer.   
She didn't have that luxury with her paying customers. She enjoyed the chance to sleep in a bed or, occasionally a sofa when she went home to a bachelor pad, but since she was already imposing on these men for a place to stay, they felt they owed her little else. More than once she felt in the morning that the men hadn't paid her for all her services rendered. Often they got her so drunk or doped up she passed out so they could do whatever they wanted to her until she woke up. If she said anything about the amount she was paid, they usually explained their cheapness with excuses of cleaning bills or paying for the drugs and booze.   
Yet Rachel kept working. Her pay was so meager that after buying a drink and, if she was lucky, a bit of drugs, she didn't always have money for food. Sometimes she didn't want food for days, she was so doped up. She developed the 'heroin chic' look quickly.   
Rachel's days were filled by wandering the streets. During the day no one noticed her provocative clothes or her blank gaze. She was free to go where ever she pleased, to scout out new locations for the evening and, more than once, to go by Marissa's old building.   
Rachel didn't know why she kept coming back. It certainly didn't make her feel any better. She would buy herself several bottles of beer, the best heroin she could afford, then sit in an alley across the street from Marissa's building and drink and shoot up until she began to forget the pain; sometimes she began to forget why she was sitting there. But always around sunset she left. She knew the women who worked in this area, she didn't want to be seen as competition, nor did she want to be reminded that Marissa _wasn't_ there.   
Early one evening, as Rachel was struggling to her feet in her booze and drug induced stupor, a car slowed to a stop in front of her. Rachel squinted at it, trying to see if it was a cop car or not. It was a black non-descript vehicle. She was about to run, assuming the worst since it was too early for a client to be picking her up, when the window rolled down and a woman's voice called out, "Rachel?!"   
Rachel turned back to the car. "Wha?"   
A woman stepped out of the car. Rachel vaguely recognized her, but couldn't get her brain to cooperate and tell her exactly who this woman was. "Dear God, what happened to you?"   
"Whaddya mean? Who're you?"   
The woman cautiously stepped towards Rachel. "I'm Cassie, Rachel. Do you remember me?"   
Rachel squinted at the woman claiming to be Cassie. "You can't be. Cassie's short."   
Cassie smiled slightly. "Someone conned me into high heels for a meeting. I'm on my way home from there now. Would you like to come home with me?"   
"No."   
"I'd really like it if you'd come with me, Rachel.   
"Why shoul' I? Nothin' good ever happens at home. Tobias always yellin' at me. . . ."   
"Tobias isn't at my home, Rachel. I live alone. I'd like company, just for one night."   
"There'll be a bed?"   
"A large one."   
"An' no men?"   
If it wasn't already, Cassie's heart broke then. Her best friend was standing on a lonely street corner, dressed like a hooker, dangerously drunk and stoned, and was worried about men spending the night. _Dear God, what has she been through?_ "No men," she promised softly.   
Rachel took a few hesitant steps to Cassie, then clutched Cassie's arm in a death-grip for support. "Lea' th' way." 

***

Rachel stumbled along beside Cassie as Cassie gave a brief tour of the huge apartment. "The bathroom's right here," she said, opening a door. They walked through to another door, "and it connects to your room." She flipped a light switch, revealing a room that was as big as the living room in the apartment Rachel had shared with Tobias.   
"My room is right across the hall," Cassie said as Rachel explored her new room. "You can come get me if you need anything."   
"I need a beer," Rachel mumbled as she entered the walk-in closet.   
"I don't have any."   
"Why th' hell not?!"   
Cassie involuntarily stepped back, even though Rachel was halfway across the room. "I've never liked it. I have Diet Coke, cranberry juice, milk and water. Would you like any of that?"   
Rachel collapsed on the bed. "No. I'll wait an' buy more. . . ." she didn't finish the sentence. She'd fallen asleep   
_She looks so peaceful,_ Cassie thought as she went to the bed. She tugged off Rachel's ratty sneakers, then gently set her right leg up on the bed, instead of letting it continue to hang off. She moved a pillow so it was under Rachel's head, then pulled a sheet down from a shelf in the closet and laid it over Rachel. _Looking at her now, you'd never know she had a problem in the world._ Cassie quietly left the room, turning off the light just before closing the door.   
She crossed the hall into her own bedroom. First she kicked off the damn high heels Ronnie had suggested she wear to meet with the governor, then she sat on her bed and grabbed her cordless phone. She pushed the second number on her speed dial. Tobias.   
There were four rings with no answer before the answering machine picked up. "Hi, Tobias, it's Cassie. I'm calling to -" there was a shriek of interference as the phone was picked up at Tobias' end. Cassie was used to this now. Tobias had been spending most of his time as a hawk now since Rachel had disappeared three weeks ago. He was rarely able to morph before the answering machine answered.   
"Have you heard anything?" Tobias demanded.   
"I found Rachel," Cassie said.   
"What?"   
Cassie smiled slightly. "I found Rachel. Just a half an hour ago."   
"Oh my God. I'd thought - I mean, it's been so long!"   
"I know."   
"Where is she? I have to talk to her."   
"She's at my place now, sleeping. I don't know when she'll be up to talking."   
"What do you mean?"   
Cassie sighed and laid down on her bed. "I mean, the streets haven't been kind to Rachel. When I picked her up she was drunk and stoned. I don't want to know how many drugs are in her system right now. And, this may have been the booze talking, she doesn't seem to want to talk with you. When I asked her to come home with me, she thought I meant your place, and said nothing good ever happens there."   
"She couldn't have meant it."   
"I'm sure you're right," Cassie said, though she wasn't sure at all. _Something_ must have happened in that apartment for Rachel to have run away. "I'll keep you updated until she's ready to call you herself."   
"Thank you, Cassie. I owe you so much."   
"You don't owe me anything, Tobias."   
"Still. . . . Can you tell Rachel something for me?"   
"When she wakes up."   
"Of course. Um, tell her I love her?"   
"As soon as she wakes up," Cassie said with a smile. "I promise." 


	7. Chapter Six

**Breakdown**   
**Chapter Six**

Cassie woke up early the next morning when she heard Rachel making noises in her room. Cassie dashed across the hall into Rachel's room. _This must be what it's like to have kids,_ Cassie thought. _Maybe I don't want them. . . ._   
Rachel was thrashing about on the bed. The sheet was tangled around her legs, her hair was matted and a thin sheen of sweat coated her face. Cassie sat on the edge of Rachel's bed and gently took one of Rachel's hands. "Rachel. Wake up, Rachel." Cassie reached over to smooth Rachel's hair.   
Rachel woke up suddenly, her eyes wide but unfocused. She bolted upright and grabbed Cassie's wrist.   
"Rachel!" Cassie gasped. "It's me. It's Cassie!"   
"Cassie?" Rachel said. She dropped Cassie's wrist. "Cassie, why is it so cold in here?"   
"Cold? Rachel, you're sweating." Cassie put a hand to Rachel's forehead. She was hot to the touch. "You're sick, Rachel. I want you to go back to sleep."   
Rachel lay back down, her hands clamped over her head. "I can't sleep. My head hurts too much. And it's still cold."   
"That's because you're sick. I can get you some Tylenol for your headache, but I think you need to go to the hospital."   
"No. I don't need Tylenol and I don't need a hospital. I need a beer and some shit."   
"That's why you're sick, Rachel. You're hung-over and probably going through withdrawal from whatever drugs you were on."   
"Heroin," Rachel said softly.   
"What?"   
"Heroin. It's what I always use when I visit Marissa."   
"I didn't see anybody with you when I found you."   
Rachel peeked out from under her hand. "You found me?"   
"Yes. I picked you up around sunset on 97th street. You were. . . sick even then."   
"I'm not sick," Rachel grumbled. "Just say it. I'm a drunk stoner."   
"And that's why I want you to go to the hospital."   
"Wouldn't the tabloids love that one? Rachel, the reclusive Animorph, checks in to Betty Ford."   
"I'd rather pick you up there next month than on 97th street again. What were you doing there? Who's Marissa?"   
Rachel burrowed under the comforter she had been sleeping on top of. "I don't want to talk. If you're not going to bring me beer or drugs, I want to sleep."   
Cassie sighed. "Of course, Rachel." She stood up, then went to the windows, pulling down the shades. "Oh, by the way, I talked to Tobias last night."   
Rachel ripped the comforter down from over her head. "Why?!"   
"I made him tell me what happened three weeks ago, when you ran away."   
"Three weeks?" Cassie nodded. "And I didn't run away."   
"Well, whatever happened, Tobias didn't want to tell me at first. He wanted me to think you were still sick, like you had been for a week and a half."   
"I was only 'sick' for a week."   
"But he'd already told me you were getting better. So I didn't leave him alone until he finally told me you'd left. You'd already been gone for a week by then. He didn't tell me what made you leave, but I've been on the look out for you since. He has, too. Though I don't think he ever got to 97th. Maybe he didn't want to think about you there."   
Rachel snorted. "Our neighborhood was a lot worse than 97th."   
"When I called last night, he wanted me to tell you he loved you."   
"Sure he does." Rachel pulled the comforter back over her head. "He always says that, but he never does anything. God, I'm cold," she added softly.   
"Sleep well," Cassie whispered as she left Rachel's room. With a sigh, she walked down the hall to the thermostat and turned it up several degrees. She was already warm, but she could change into cooler clothes while Rachel probably wouldn't be warm even now. 

***

With copious apologies, Cassie canceled the meetings she'd been scheduled for the next few days, citing a personal emergency. Tiring as it was, she devoted herself completely to taking care of Rachel, who needed all the help she could get, though she wouldn't admit it.   
Rachel was furious at Cassie for a number of perceived injustices, namely having to stay in the apartment, though that wasn't Cassie's fault. As Rachel's withdrawal continued, she got weaker and weaker. It got to the point where Rachel could hardly leave her bed, let alone the apartment. Cassie's only part in Rachel's captivity was refusing to help her escape.   
"If you can't walk a dozen steps to the bathroom, how do you expect to get out of my building?" Cassie asked Rachel one afternoon.   
"I don't need to go far," Rachel moaned, "just need to get my -" she couldn't finish the sentence. She leaned over the bed to throw up in a bucket Cassie had provided.   
Cassie pulled Rachel's hair back. "When you can walk on your own, we'll talk again." 

***

Late Saturday morning, Cassie awoke refreshed after having slept a full night for the first time since she'd taken Rachel in. But as soon as she realized that, she panicked. _Rachel!_ Cassie leapt from her bed and ran into Rachel's room.   
Rachel was lying peacefully on the bed with only a sheet covering her. The other blankets Rachel had been using all week had been kicked to the end of the bed. Cassie tiptoed to the side of Rachel's bed. The bucket was empty and Rachel's forehead was cooler than it had been. If Rachel still had a fever, it was mild. Cassie let out the breath she felt she'd been holding since she'd picked Rachel up.   
Feeling much better, Cassie went about her usual Saturday morning routine: putting on coffee, taking a shower, then curling up on the couch with the paper and her coffee. 

She hadn't even made it through the first section of the paper when there was a knock at the door. Cassie slowly went to the door. Only a few people were allowed up without her being told and she hadn't planned on any of them coming by today.   
After undoing the dead bolt and chain lock, Cassie opened the door to find Ronnie standing outside. "Hey, Cass. Miss me?"   
"Miss you? Of course." Cassie kissed Ronnie's cheek. "What are you doing here?"   
Ronnie looked confused. "Uh, don't you remember? We've been planning on a picnic lunch to celebrate our six month anniversary for weeks."   
Cassie about slapped her forehead. "Ronnie, I'm so sorry. I completely forgot and now an emergency's come up."   
"The one that forced you to cancel your meetings this week?"   
"Exactly."   
"Can I at least come in so you can tell me what's been going on? When I heard the news on CNN, I about freaked, but I figured you'd call."   
"And I'm so sorry that I didn't," Cassie said as she took Ronnie's arm and led him to the living room couch. "You see. . . well, it's about Rachel. She's had a rough couple of weeks and I'm helping her get back on her feet."   
"And she requires constant care?" Ronnie asked.   
"Pretty close."   
"Then why aren't you with her now?"   
"Well, she's getting better. And she's asleep."   
"Then we can still go out!"   
"She isn't out of the woods yet," Cassie said gently. "I don't want to leave her alone yet."   
"So why isn't her boyfriend taking care of her?"   
"I will tell you everything as soon as I know and Rachel gives me permission," Cassie promised.   
"When I give you permission to do what?" Rachel asked.   
Cassie turned around to see Rachel wrapped in her sheet, leaning against the wall for support. Her hair was limp and her skin pale except for the dark circles under her eyes, but it was an improvement over the feverish flush she'd had.   
"Nothing," Cassie said quickly. She stood and took her friend's arm, guiding Rachel to the couch. "Rachel, I want you to meet Ronnie, my, uh, boyfriend."   
"Boyfriend?" Rachel said skeptically. She stared at the hand Ronnie was holding out as if it might bite her. "What happened to you and Jake?"   
Cassie felt herself blush. "He and I broke up a long time ago. You know that."   
"Cassie was just telling me she's been helping you out all week, Rachel," Ronnie said brightly.   
"Depends on your definition of helping."   
"Yeah, well, I was wondering if you were feeling well enough to let me borrow Cassie for an afternoon."   
Rachel wrinkled her nose. "Cass?"   
"No, Ronnie, I really can't go today," Cassie said quickly. "I'm sure Rachel needs to be going back to bed and I'll need to get her some breakfast. Or lunch."   
"Hey, you said when I could walk we'd talk about when I could go," Rachel grumbled as Cassie tried to lift her from the couch.   
"You're not walking quite yet," Cassie said.   
"Here, let me help," Ronnie said. He stood and took one of Rachel's arms.   
"No!" Rachel said with more energy than she'd been able to muster all week. she pulled her arms away, then grabbed the sheet from where it had fallen to her waist and pulled it tightly around her shoulders. "Don't you _ever_ touch me." She glared at Ronnie with hooded eyes. "I make the rules now and Cassie promised. No men."   
"Oookay," Ronnie said. "I think I'd better be going. Uh, bye, Rachel. Nice to -" he caught sight of Rachel's glare again. "Never mind." He moved to kiss Cassie, but she turned her head so he could only kiss her cheek. "Bye, Cass. Cassie. I'll call later and we'll reschedule."   
"Yeah. Bye."   
Rachel waited until Ronnie had left to turn to Cassie and say, "Cass?"   
Cassie shrugged. "It's a nickname. It's nothing big."   
"You wouldn't let _me_ call you 'Cass.' You gave me the silent treatment for a week after I called you Cass."   
Cassie smiled. "I'm glad you're feeling better, but your memory's a little off. I only did that for a day, back in Kindergarten or something."   
Rachel frowned. "So was I imagining that you said I could leave when I could walk?"   
"I said we'd talk. I don't think you can go out on your own yet -"   
"Yes, I can!"   
"All right. Walk to the kitchen and back," Cassie said. Rachel stood slowly, then grabbed the edge of an end table to aid her balance. "Without help."   
Rachel let go of the table, took two steps, then feel backwards on to the couch. "No, let me try again," she grumbled.   
Cassie laid a hand on Rachel's arm. "I'll let you go to someplace else where someone can still help you. Your mom, the hospital, a friend's, or back to Tobias. I'm afraid of what might happen to you if I let you out on your own."   
"I can take care of myself."   
"Then why did I pick you up stoned and drunk?" Cassie asked quietly.   
"It was a bad day, that's all."   
"You don't go through withdrawal that serious after only a day of drugs."   
"How do you know? Have you delivered any crack Hork-Bajir babies lately?"   
"Fine then, why don't you tell me why you were having such a bad day."   
Rachel crossed her arms and sunk deeper into the couch. "I don't remember."   
Cassie nodded. She knew Rachel would 'remember' when she felt like it. "Why don't I make some lunch? You haven't eaten much all week."   
"I have a serious craving for Chinese."   
"I don't think you're ready for that yet. How about soup?"   
"I could order hot and sour soup."   
"Or I could make tomato."   
"Or you could make tomato," Rachel grumbled. 

***

Rachel stared into the cup of soup Cassie handed her. Cassie sat next to her and began sipping hers, but Rachel didn't notice. She stared at her soup a moment before whispering, "Marissa hated tomato soup."   
Cassie stopped with her cup halfway to her lips. "What?"   
"Marissa hated tomato soup."   
"You mentioned her before. Who's Marissa?"   
"She's. . . she was the friend who helped me out."   
"What happened?"   
Rachel finally took a deep slurp of her soup. She gagged, but kept it down. "Nothing."   
"Okay." Cassie went back to her soup."   
"The day before, we talked about groceries. We needed more. I wanted tomato soup, but she said she hated it."   
"Did she say why?"   
"It was too plain. Marissa always liked things more exotic."   
"What things?"   
Rachel took a small sip of soup, then went back to staring into the cup. "Her drugs, her sex, her friends. She told me so few people were naturally blond haired and blue eyed now, I counted as exotic."   
"It must have been nice, having something think of you as exotic."   
"It was," Rachel said softly."   
"Did you end up buying the tomato soup anyway?"   
"I never went shopping."   
"Did Marissa?"   
Rachel took another gulp of soup. "She - I - No. No, she didn't. She . . . couldn't."   
Cassie set her soup down on the coffee table and moved closer to Rachel so she could put her hands around Rachel's trembling ones. "You don't need to tell me anymore now."   
"Okay," Rachel said meekly. "I want to go back to sleep."   
"That's fine. I'll help you back to the bedroom."   
Rachel silently allowed herself to be lifted from the couch and guided back to her temporary bedroom. Cassie laid her down on the bed and pulled the sheet back up over Rachel.   
"Cassie?" Rachel whispered as Cassie began to leave. Cassie turned around. "Thanks."   
Cassie smiled as Rachel closed her eyes and appeared to fall asleep immediately. She closed the door quietly then went back to her room where she picked up her phone and called Ronnie.   
"Hey, Cass," Ronnie said after he heard Cassie's voice. "Uh, how's Rachel?"   
"She's doing fine. She's sleeping again. I wanted to apologize again for not telling you earlier."   
"I understand. She obviously needs you more than I do right now. You're an awesome girl, Cass."   
Cassie felt herself blush. "You're not so bad yourself, Ronnie."   
"And that's why I love you. Keep me updated on how Rachel's doin', okay? We'll get together when she's better. And tell her I'm sorry for. . . whatever I did to upset her."   
"You touched her after I promised there would be no men at my apartment," Cassie explained. "I think you'd better stay away until she's thinking a bit clearer. I'm sure she'll love you, but right now she's not really up to visitors, you know?"   
"Yeah, I know. What has that girl been through?"   
Cassie sighed. "I don't know exactly. I can make some guesses, but Rachel hasn't been willing, or maybe able, to tell me much. Maybe she'll let me tell you someday, but for now . . . ."   
"For now I'm just the strange man who's infringing on her territory," Ronnie said. There was a clicking sound on Ronnie's end of the connection. "That'd be my call-waiting. See ya', Cassie. I love you."   
"I love you, too. I'll call back soon." 


	8. Chapter Seven

**Breakdown**   
**Chapter 7**

After another two weeks, Rachel was almost fully recovered, except for minor dizzy spells and a general sense of weakness. She didn't talk about leaving anymore, but someone still stayed with her at all times. Cassie had to start going back to work of course, but she cut down on the number of meetings she attended so she was usually home with Rachel. When Cassie did have work to do, Jordan came, often skipping school, to spend the time with her sister. It was the best compromise Rachel and Cassie could come up with and it pleased Naomi to have someone keeping an eye on Rachel that felt obligated to report on how she was doing.   
Cassie was optimistic about Rachel's recovery. Jordan's visits seemed to help a lot. But Rachel didn't say anything more about what had happened to her on the streets, or even what had happened to the mysterious Marissa. Cassie wasn't pressing the matter; the few times she'd asked questions Rachel had clammed up and wouldn't speak until the subject was changed. For the time being, Cassie was content to keep nursing Rachel back to health.   
It was a few weeks before Rachel finally convinced Cassie that she was well enough to satisfy her Chinese craving. She didn't feel ready to be seen out in public yet, so Cassie ordered in.   
When the food came, Rachel and Cassie took their boxes and chopsticks into Rachel's room and spread the open boxes out on Rachel's bed so they could eat from whatever looked interesting.   
"I feel like I'm fifteen again," Rachel said as she grabbed a piece of orange chicken. "We should be wearing our pajamas and figuring out who to prank call."   
"That sounds like something Marco would have done," Cassie said.   
"I wouldn't be surprised if he still does. If a girl dumps him, he probably has a hundred pizzas delivered to her place."   
"And because she's a model, she would probably faint at the sight of all that grease." Rachel burst into giggles, while Cassie put a hand over her mouth to stifle hers. "I can't believe I said that. That's awful."   
"Hey, go with it. We're pretending to be 15."   
"Let's pretend to be 17."   
Rachel stopped giggling. "Cassie. We are 17."   
"But we aren't living like we're 17. 17 year olds don't pretend to be 15. 17 year olds don't live on their own in lavish apartments, or have boyfriends four years older than them."   
"You have a boyfriend?" Rachel gasped.   
"Yeah. You met him a few weeks ago and, uh, kind of scared him away," Cassie admitted.   
"Oh." Rachel looked down into the box of rice she had nestled between her legs. "Sorry."   
"It's not your fault. Ronnie understood completely. And it was my fault, really, for not calling to cancel our date."   
"What were you going to do?"   
"Spend a day out to celebrate our six month anniversary."   
"Aw. Have you rescheduled yet?"   
"No. I've been waiting for you. To be able to be by yourself for awhile," Cassie added hesitantly.   
Rachel frowned. "You don't trust me yet?"   
"Of course I do," Cassie said quickly. "But you've had periods of weakness where you've needed someone's help. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if something happened to you while I was out, especially if it was something as frivolous as a date."   
"Dating someone you've been with for six months isn't frivolous. And I'm doing a lot better now. I'm eating good food," she popped a piece of chicken in her mouth to demonstrate, "and I haven't thrown anything up in over a week," she added after chewing and swallowing. "I'd say I'm cured."   
"Well, I don't know about cured," Cassie said slowly, "but I suppose I could call Ronnie and we could go out for an hour or two."   
"Yes. You deserve it. I know I've been a pain -"   
"No, you haven't."   
Rachel smirked. "You can't lie, Cassie. Anyway, I've been a pain to take care of, and I wouldn't be surprised if there were times I was downright bitchy, but you didn't give up and you have no idea how much that means to me."   
"I would do it all over again in a heartbeat."   
Rachel blushed. "Well, you're a better person than me. So, uh, will I get to meet this Ronnie guy? Again, I guess."   
"Of course you will. In fact, I'll call him as soon as we finish lunch and tell him we're on for this weekend. As long as he meets you properly first."   
"Why wait till after lunch?" Rachel reached across the food and gave Cassie a gentle push. "Call him now. I'll leave you some rice or something."   
"How generous of you," Cassie said dryly. But she hadn't had the chance to talk to Ronnie for several days, so she gladly hopped off the bed and went to her own room. 

***

Saturday morning, Rachel woke with a start. As soon as her eyes opened, the memory of the dream she'd been having escaped her, she was left only with a faint nauseated feeling which intensified when she remembered what was to happen that day. Ronnie was going to come over before whisking Cassie away for a romantic tryst. She didn't mind that part: Cassie deserved to be happy and if Ronnie made her happy, Rachel was happy. She was just having second thoughts about meeting the man.   
But this was going to be Rachel's first day on her own since Cassie had found her. She wasn't going to screw it up by throwing up over a slight case of nerves.   
Carefully, because she wasn't used to doing much on her own yet, Rachel got up, gathered a few of the clothes Cassie had bought her (only because Rachel had desperately needed clothes and hadn't been in a condition to go shopping) and shuffled to the bathroom for a long, hot shower. It was a new day and meeting Cassie's boyfriend would be the start of Rachel's first steps towards independence.   
Cassie was standing at the stove in the kitchen when Rachel had finished her shower. "Good morning!" Cassie said cheerfully.   
"Morning," Rachel said. "Did I wake you up?"   
"Not really," Cassie admitted. "I didn't sleep much. I guess I'm kind of nervous."   
"Nervous?"   
Cassie sighed and turned off the stove. She brought a plate of waffles to the table and set it down before she sat. "Well, even if it is late, this is Ronnie's and my six month anniversary celebration. I think that's enough to cause nerves. And I'm worried about leaving you alone -"   
"It's only for two hours!" Rachel protested.   
"No one ever said nervousness was a logical emotion. And now you're going to meet Ronnie. I mean, really meet him. You're going to be the first person who really matters to me to meet him."   
"You mean your parents haven't met him? They're half an hour away!"   
"I know. But first I didn't want to bring someone home who I might leave within a week, or something. And then Ronnie's and my schedules became so hectic we were rarely in town on the same weekends."   
"And then I came into the picture."   
"Rachel, you have not been a burden to me," Cassie said emphatically. "I can't say I've really enjoyed every moment of your stay, but I wouldn't want you anywhere else. Now eat a waffle. Hopefully I got Mom's recipe right." 

***

Ronnie's visit came and went quickly. He'd been late coming over due to traffic and if they stayed too long talking he and Cassie would be late for their lunch reservations. As Rachel recalled it, the conversation was little more than hellos, an apology, promises to get together again soon to talk properly, and good byes.   
With Cassie gone, the apartment was suddenly intimidating to Rachel. She felt claustrophobic, yet nervous about the emptiness at the same time. She really wanted nothing more than to leave, but Cassie would have killed her, so she retreated to the familiarity of the guest bedroom instead.   
With sunlight streaming through the windows, the room had grown uncomfortably hot. Rachel went to a window to pull down the shades, but first glanced down the twenty or so stories of the apartment building. Way down there was an alley, not unlike the ones Rachel vaguely remembered spending a few nights in at various times over the past year. There was a small group of kids down there, passing around a small object. It was a cylinder and when held at the right angle, sunlight glinted off a thin metal piece.   
_It's a syringe,_ Rachel recognized suddenly. And she knew exactly what those kids were injecting into their arms. She was hit with a craving so intense she actually moaned aloud and grasped the window sill to keep her balance. Without stopping to think about anything but the chance of having a shot, Rachel ran from the apartment and took the elevator down to the ground level.   
Out on the street, it took Rachel a moment to remember what way her bedroom window faced, but after a moment she visualized it properly and found the alley.   
The kids were still there. They looked panicked for a moment but when they realized the intruder was around their age they relaxed.   
Rachel had to use all her self control to keep herself from grabbing the needle out of the nearest kid's hands. Instead, she sauntered up to them and asked casually, "Mind if I join?"   
One boy, who looked to be the oldest, leered at Rachel. "What'll you give us?"   
"Well, if your shit's any good, you'll find out, won't you?"   
"Hey, I think I know you!" one of the kids said. Rachel hadn't seen him earlier. He was significantly smaller than the others. He couldn't have been more than 14. "You look like that Animorph chick on TV. What's her name? Rochelle?"   
"Naw, it's Renee," a girl said.   
"She ain't no Renee!"   
"It ain't Rochelle neither!"   
"Whatever her name is," Rachel broke in, "I'm not her, I swear. Would the savior of the planet be out here bumming shots? I just need one. I haven't had any for a long time."   
The oldest boy filled the syringe, then handed it to Rachel. "What's your name?"   
Rachel didn't answer while she concentrated on finding a suitable vein. She sighed with content when she found one and injected the whitish liquid. She could practically feel the heroin coursing through her system. "Uh, Sara," she said, remembering what she'd put on her fake ID. That afternoon seemed like a lifetime ago.   
And it was.   
Marissa's.   
Rachel closed her eyes and shook her head. She didn't need to follow that train of thought. "Thanks for the hit, guys," Rachel said as she began to walk away.   
"Wait, Sara." Rachel turned around. It was the older guy. Obviously the ring leader of this gang. "Stay awhile. Take a few more shots. This shit is better with company."   
Rachel went back to the circle and found a spot to stand between the ring leader and the kid. "I couldn't agree more." 

***

Rachel stayed with the group until they ran out of heroin. The ring leader, who's name was Mark, propositioned her several times while she was there as means of payment, but anytime he tried anything, he revealed he was too stoned to do much. She let him get away with a few gropes, but nothing more. She wasn't about to take anyone back to Cassie's and she knew she had to be back there herself before Cassie, though she no longer remembered when exactly Cassie was supposed to come back.   
"Soon," Rachel mumbled. She remembered that. Just before Cassie left she'd said she'd see Rachel 'soon.' Rachel said goodbye to the group and, feeling better than she had in weeks, started back towards Cassie's apartment.   
The doorman gave Rachel an odd look as she stumbled through the doors, but didn't say anything. He remembered Cassie bringing in this bedraggled woman almost two months ago, and he'd seen her run out earlier. She didn't really _belong_ here, but Cassie would take care of her.   
Rachel stopped the elevator at every floor to find Cassie's familiar looking one. Every floor looked pretty cool and some interesting people got on and off the elevator, but Cassie had a distinctive floor. Namely, her door was the only one on it. As Rachel got off the elevator and walked down the hall she wondered if Cassie got to decorate it, too.   
Rachel stood for several minutes beside Cassie's door, tracing the flowing flowery pattern of the wallpaper with her index finger. If Cassie _did _do the decorating down this hall, Rachel decided, she hadn't chosen the wall paper. It was pretty, but too pink for Cassie's tastes.   
Finally, the pattern flowed higher than Rachel could reach, so she turned her attention to the door. The wood grain made a cool pattern, too, but not as cool as the wall paper, so she just turned the door handle.   
Or tried to.   
The door was locked.   
Rachel tried to remember if she'd locked it when she left. She didn't think so. She'd been too excited about meeting Mark and the others. Had Cassie come home already?   
Rachel knocked on the door lightly. No one answered, so Rachel, figuring Cassie may have been in her bedroom (with Ronnie), knocked harder. Then banged on the door with her fist. When she still got no answer, Rachel began to pound with both fists, and occasionally with her feet and knees until she was suddenly too tired to stand. She put her back to the door, then sank quickly to the ground. She felt like crying, but then discovered the wall paper pattern went down to the floor, then there was an interesting pattern in the carpet. She'd never be bored again!   
It didn't take long for Rachel to trace the wall paper pattern down to the floor. She'd begun to memorize it so she could anticipate every twist and turn. The carpet pattern was much more complex and random. When crawling around to find it, Rachel had to keep her nose close to the green carpet to follow the pink lines.   
Rachel didn't look up until she heard the light ding signaling the opening of the elevator doors. Cassie stepped out and almost on to Rachel.   
"What are you doing out here?" Cassie demanded.   
"I think your door locks behind you."   
"Of course it does," Cassie said. "But what were you doing outside of the apartment?" She leaned down and picked Rachel up by one arm.   
"Uh, claustrophobia?"   
Cassie inspected the inside of Rachel's right arm carefully. She didn't see anything suspicious, so she turned to Rachel's left arm. And there she found what she'd suspected: a trio of minute scabs on the inside of Rachel's elbow. "Oh, Rachel."   
"Oh nothing," Rachel said, snatching her arm back. "Come on, let's go inside. I wanna talk."   
"About what?" Cassie asked as she dug through her purse to find her keys.   
"My day. Your day. Life in general. It'll be fun! Like, girl talk time."   
Part of Cassie was glad to see Rachel have seemingly boundless energy. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Rachel so excited. But then she had to remind herself that Rachel _wasn't_ really happy. She was just really high.   
"Come on inside," Cassie said with a sigh. She pushed open her door and held it open for Rachel. "Let's go talk in your room."   
Rachel seemed to crash as soon as she laid down on the bed. Out in the hall she hadn't been able to stay still, but in here Cassie would have thought Rachel had fallen asleep if her eyes weren't open. And if she hadn't been talking. Slower now, but she still kept up a steady monologue.   
"I had a lot of fun today. More than I have in months! See, I came back to my room after you left and looked out the window. There were a bunch of kids in the alley and they were passing a needle around. Well, you don't know what it's like to be so close yet so far away from your people, so I went out and joined them. It was fun. It reminded me of old times, with Marissa."   
Cassie really didn't want to hear about Rachel's drug adventures, but she did want to know who Marissa was. "Will you tell me about Marissa?"   
"Marissa was the best person on the streets. I've met lots of prostitutes out there and a lot of them are cool, but a lot are real bitchy. But Marissa was always real nice to me. I met her the first time I went out on my own."   
"When was that?"   
Rachel frowned. "I don't know. After I moved in with Tobias? A few months. See, after. . . everything, all was good. For about a month. I think. I kind of liked being called a hero and doing all the interviews." Rachel craned her neck back to look at Cassie. "Remember all the stuff we did then? It was what we'd been waiting for!" Cassie hadn't wanted anything to do with most of it, but she nodded to keep Rachel going.   
"Then I guess the. . . the novelty wore off. I skipped interviews and I stopped doing those stupid correspondence courses Mom made me take. She kept saying I could get anywhere without a high school diploma, but I think she was forgetting I was a super hero. I finally got sick of her so I got my legal emancipation. It was really easy. I should have done it earlier. Anyway, I hooked up with Tobias and we found the only apartment we could afford, in what had to be the worst neighborhood in town."   
Cassie nodded. Rachel couldn't see her, but she couldn't find the words to encourage Rachel to continue. _That explains why she never invited us over._   
"Tobias had his own stuff to do. He paints, y'know. And he's pretty good. He paid the bills, anyway. But I was bored. I'm not a politician or an entertainer. I can't crusade to save the rain forest. So, yeah, I was bored. I'd go wander through the neighborhood. I dyed my hair a couple of times so I wouldn't be recognized. I finally got to hang out with kids my own age. Don't you miss that?"   
Cassie shrugged. "A little."   
"Well, the best part about that neighborhood were the parties. There was one practically every night and there was plenty of alcohol. And sex." Rachel frowned. "Hmm. Here everything goes fuzzy. Y'know, I woke up after some of those parties with no idea where the hell I was. But while the buzz lasted it was fun. On the street I wasn't an Animorph. I was just Rachel. Or 'that chick', since most guys didn't bother to learn my name. And vice versa."   
"It must be nice, not being recognized everywhere you go."   
Rachel grinned broadly. "The advantage of being a recluse!" She frowned suddenly. "But then I stopped going to parties. They were all the same: small apartments filled with sweaty, stinking people with nothing but booze and sex on their minds. I like the booze. And the sex. But not the people. So I tried to get my own booze, but too many places carded and I usually didn't have money to tip someone for buying me some. So I started   
to. . . well, if you're not standing on a street corner advertising yourself, are you really hooking?"   
"I don't know. I never really thought about it," Cassie admitted.   
"Yeah, well. I. . . I started staying out for, I don't know, a couple of days at a time? Tobias was driving me crazy. He didn't want me to have any fun. I caught him dumping out a six pack of beer in the sink once! So I'd keep staying out longer, and it was hard to find a place to sleep. I met Marissa one of my first times out over night. Once she knew I didn't want any of her men, she offered me her couch to sleep on. Marissa was better than any of the other women out there. They treated my stays like a never ending sleep over. But Marissa never asked me about my past and I never asked about hers. She didn't care how much I drank and offered to share her heroin stash with me. Though I never accepted. Until last time. That was the first time I ever, like, worked at her place, too. Well, first time I ever worked anywhere at anything for money. And you know what?" Rachel sat up suddenly and leaned close to Cassie's ear. "It was fun!" She collapsed back on the bed in a fit of giggles.   
"Really?"   
"Oh, come on, Cassie! You know sex is one of the funnest things on Earth! Especially when you've got a nice buzz going. And when you're with a stranger, you can be whoever you want and do whatever you want."   
Cassie had a dozen questions to ask Rachel, but most sounded too judgmental, or were too complicated, for Rachel to handle in her present state. "So. . . how did no one recognize you?"   
Rachel shrugged. "It was dark? I certainly wasn't dressed like I did on TV. When I was dressed at all." She giggled again.   
"Rachel. . . do you think you could tell me now what happened to Marissa?"   
Rachel's giggles abruptly stopped and she grew so still and her face was so blank Cassie was afraid she'd made Rachel clam up again. She was just about to assure Rachel she didn't _have_ to talk when Rachel began to speak. Slowly, quietly, in a voice that didn't seem like it could come from the girl who'd been laying there a moment ago.   
"It was my night to use Marissa's room. I had one of Marissa's regulars and he really liked rough sex, y'know? So most of my attention was focused on him. But. . . I think. . . I remember Marissa had a guy in the living room. No, I know she had a man with her. She kept begging him to stop. Crying for help. Telling him. . . I think. . . she'd have it later."   
Rachel stopped speaking, so Cassie filled the sudden silence. "What was 'it'?"   
Silence again for a moment. "I don't know," Rachel finally admitted. "I didn't do anything because I've heard Marissa work before. It's sick how many men came and they didn't care what she did as long as she screamed and begged for mercy."   
"Did they ever do that to you?"   
"They never asked for it expressly," Rachel admitted slowly. "But that last night. . . I think I did. Partly to drown out Marissa. I never liked to hear her like that."   
Cassie wasn't surprised to see Rachel begin to cry. She put a hand on Rachel's shoulder. "You don't have to tell me anymore."   
"Yes I do!" Rachel sobbed. "When I got up the next morning I. . . I got a drink. Then went to the couch. She wasn't supposed to still be there. It was late. She always got up early. So I went to her. She wouldn't wake up. I told her to wake up. Wake up, Marissa! Wake up!" Rachel was nearly in hysterics now. "I shook her. And she moved. She had a needle in her arm. Like she'd just taken a shot? But then I saw. . . purple marks on her neck." Rachel put her hands to her throat, fingers spread apart like the bruises on her friend's neck had been. "You really did need help," she said, suddenly quiet. It took Cassie a moment to realize Rachel must have been talking to Marissa. "You needed help. He. . . he killed you. Why? Why did you bring him up? Why didn't you come get me?" Rachel was sobbing again.   
Cassie pulled Rachel up so she could hug her close. "It's all right now, Rachel. You couldn't do anything, it's not your fault."   
"You don't know what it was like! Her eyes were. . . and her skin!"   
"Shh. It's all right now. I want you to go to sleep. We'll talk more later."   
Rachel clamped her arms tightly around Cassie's neck. "Don't leave me," she begged into Cassie's shoulder.   
Cassie carefully pried off Rachel's arms. "You lay down and I promise I'll sit right next to you."   
Rachel reluctantly lay down, but kept a firm grip on one of Cassie's hands. Her eyes closed as soon as her head hit the pillow, but she stayed awake long enough to murmur, "I'll protect you, Cassie." 


	9. Chapter Eight

**Breakdown**   
**Chapter Eight**

Cassie sat with Rachel until she was sure Rachel was completely asleep. She gently pulled her hand from Rachel's, then went silently from Rachel's room to her own office next to it, keeping both doors open so she could hear Rachel easily. Then Cassie sat at her desk and began pouring over her weekly planner, looking for meetings she could cancel or postpone since once again it looked like Rachel would be needing constant care. _I need to get help. _She_ needs to get help._   
Rachel slept fitfully through the afternoon. She'd wake every two hours or so and start screaming if Cassie wasn't there. From what Cassie could gather, finally talking about Marissa's death was far from the therapy she'd hoped for Rachel. She actually seemed to be reliving the event, or other nightmarish scenarios, in her sleep. More than once Rachel had woken up crying that Cassie was dead, so she must have died, herself. Cassie did what she could to comfort Rachel, but this was starting to be more than she could handle on her own. She couldn't be Rachel's babysitter all the time, but Rachel obviously wasn't strong enough to resist her addictions on her own. Perhaps she never would be.   
During the afternoon and evening, Cassie exhausted herself running back and forth from Rachel's room, doing everything from comforting her after nightmares to forcing her to drink water. Then Cassie was cramming in as much work as possible whenever she had a break so that even though she couldn't be at as many of the meetings as she wanted, or needed, to be at, her ideas and research would be there. By dark, Cassie was about ready to collapse so, after a quick check on Rachel, she pulled herself to her own bedroom. She was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.   
Cassie didn't know how long she had been asleep when she woke up to find Rachel, listing a little to the side, standing above the bed.   
"I'm leaving," Rachel said flatly. "I can walk. And I know I've hurt you. I won't do it again."   
Cassie protested and tried to get out of bed, but her feet were tangled in the sheets. "Rachel, wait." She pulled her feet out and stumbled out of the bed. Rachel had already left the room, and by the time Cassie had gotten out of her room, Rachel had left the apartment.   
The lighted numbers above the elevator told Cassie that the elevator was already nearing the first floor. _How could Rachel have gotten down there so fast?_ The elevator was pretty decent, and in the middle of the night it wouldn't be surprising to get access to it right away, but it certainly wasn't one of the fastest ones Cassie had ever been in.   
She stumbled back to her apartment, rubbing at her eyes. _It was a dream. It had to have been a dream._ To calm her nerves, she looked into Rachel's room before going back to her own. It was dark, but she could faintly see the outline of Rachel's body under the blankets.   
_See? All a dream,_ was Cassie's last conscious thought before falling back asleep.   
Cassie awoke in the morning completely refreshed. She shook off the odd feeling the dream had left behind, reminding herself that dreams were just her subconscious's way of sorting out her feelings. "Of course I'm concerned about Rachel leaving," Cassie said to herself as she gathered her clothes. "And I probably feel helpless because that _is_ the deal we struck."   
Before heading into the bathroom for her shower, Cassie looked into Rachel's room to see how Rachel had faired during the rest of night.   
It was then she saw what she had missed when she was half asleep. She must have really been out of it, since she had used the trick several times before. All of Rachel's pillows were stuffed under the sheets, giving the illusion that a body was under there. But Rachel herself wasn't there.   
Cassie dropped her bundle of clothes and ran through Rachel's room to the adjoining bathroom, hoping that Rachel was playing some kind of sick joke. She opened the door without knocking, but no one was inside to protest.   
Cassie felt she was about to break into hysterics after a thorough search of the house proved that what she had tried to pass off as a dream wasn't a dream at all: Rachel wasn't anywhere to be found in the apartment. And it was all her fault.   
Without bothering to change into her clothes, Cassie left her apartment and took the unbearably slow elevator down to the lobby. She looked around desperately for the doorman and ran to him when she found him.   
"Good morning, Cassie. What can I do for you?" Nick, the doorman, asked brightly.   
"Have you seen my friend come through here this morning? Tall, blond, probably looking like crap?"   
"Would this be the same young woman who dragged herself through here yesterday looking stoned?"   
"Yes."   
"I haven't seen her this morning, but I've only been here for about an hour. Theresa had the night watch. Her number's at the front desk."   
Cassie didn't bother to thank Nick. She went to the desk and demanded Theresa's phone number. The secretary handed it, and the desk phone, over without argument.   
The phone at Theresa's house wasn't answered until halfway through the fourth ring. "Hello?" a groggy woman's voice answered.   
"Is this Theresa?"   
"Yeah. Who's callin'?"   
"This is Cassie Ward, I live in the apartment building. I was wondering you saw a tall, blond woman leave the building sometime last night."   
"Um, yeah. I did, actually. She came in around 12 -"   
"No, she didn't come in last night. She's been staying with me and left sometime during the night."   
"Oh, well. . . yeah. Yeah, there was a strange woman who left around. . . I don't know. . . three? She didn't look too good, her eyes were bloodshot and she walked like a drunk, but I've seen my share of prostitutes come through -"   
"Thanks, Theresa," Cassie said shortly. She slammed down the phone.   
"Any luck, Cassie?" Nick called.   
"Yeah, she left around three. I'm going to go out -"   
"Like that?"   
Cassie looked down at herself and blushed when she realized she was dressed in a pair of Ronnie's boxer shorts and a T-shirt.   
"I suppose it could be a new fashion," Nick continued, "but -"   
"It's not," Cassie said quickly. "I was just worried about my friend."   
"Would you like me to call the police while you get dressed?"   
"Doesn't she have to be missing for a day before they'll do anything?" Cassie asked as she waited at the elevator.   
"I'm sure they'd make an exception for you."   
"I'll be fine, but thanks!" Cassie called just as the elevator doors closed. The last thing she wanted, or needed, were special favors being called in because of her status as an Animorph.   
Back in her apartment, Cassie ran around to pull herself together. She grabbed her clothes from the hall and got dressed right there. She ran a comb through her hair, then grabbed her purse before running out the door again.   
Once again, the elevator seemed to take forever to reach her floor. When the doors opened, she was surprised to see Ronnie standing there, holding two bouquets of flowers.   
"Cassie!" he said in surprise as he tried to hide the flowers behind his back. "Um, what're you doing here?"   
"I could ask you the same," Cassie said as she stepped in the elevator. She pushed the button for the lobby. "Rachel ran away around three this morning."   
"Ran away?" Ronnie asked. "I thought she was well enough to leave."   
"While we were out yesterday she did leave. To get stoned. She was completely out of it when I got back. Then when I woke up this morning, she was gone."   
"With no idea where she went, I suppose," Ronnie said as they got off the elevator.   
Cassie pushed open the front door of the building. "Right."   
"Have you called her mom? Her boyfriend?"   
"Not yet," Cassie admitted. "Uh, would you mind helping me look for her? I doubt she went either place, but I could call if you were driving."   
"Sure." Ronnie led the way to his black SUV as Cassie pulled her cell phone out of her purse. She called Rachel's family first.   
"Hello?" Naomi answered.   
"Hi, Naomi. This is Cassie. Uh, can I talk to Jordan?"   
"Hold on a moment." Naomi put Cassie on hold.   
"Jordan?" Ronnie asked.   
"Telling her mother about Rachel disappearing would give the woman a heart attack," Cassie explained.   
"Hi, Cassie!" Jordan said when she picked up the phone.   
"Jordan, there's a problem with Rachel, but I wouldn't suggest letting your mom know anything yet, so try to sound natural, okay?"   
"Yeah, sure, what is it?"   
"Rachel got a hold of some heroin yesterday." Cassie could hear Jordan stifle a curse. "I know. I feel the same. She ran away from my place early this morning. She never happened to say anything to you about where she might go, did she?"   
"No. She always seemed happy to be staying with you. She never even hinted at getting more drugs or booze, or leaving your place."   
"Well, I have a feeling this wasn't premeditated. If you happen to remember anything, or if by a miracle she shows up there, will you give me a call?"   
"Yeah, of course. Can I help look?"   
"Not now. If Rachel does show up, you might need to be mediator between her and your mom. She's really sick right now."   
"Okay, yeah. And you'll tell me when you find her?"   
Cassie smiled slightly at Jordan's optimism. _Not 'if', when._ "You'll be the first. Bye."   
Cassie ended the call, then speed dialed Tobias. After one ring, Cassie heard the error tones, followed by the computerized operator telling her the number she had dialed had been disconnected.   
"Shit!" Cassie cursed loudly, surprising herself and Ronnie.   
"What?" Ronnie demanded.   
"Tobias' number has been disconnected." Cassie leaned her head back against the head rest. "Why does my life need to fall apart now?"   
"Where should we go to look for her?"   
"I first picked her up on 97th street. Maybe she wandered back there?"   
Ronnie gave a low whistle as he turned towards 97th. "Rachel sure knows how to get herself into trouble, doesn't she?"   
"You don't know the half of it," Cassie muttered. She kept her eyes focused on her window, trying to recognize Rachel among the faces on the street.   
The streets became narrower, darker and dirtier as Ronnie got closer to 97th street. Part of Cassie hoped she wouldn't find Rachel out here. Just seeing the dirty street people she didn't know would probably fuel her nightmares for weeks. The possibility of finding Rachel in the same state she'd been in weeks, almost months, ago was enough to terrify Cassie.   
"Cassie?"   
Ronnie's voice startled Cassie out of her thoughts. "What?"   
"Your phone's ringing," he said gently.   
"Please. . ." Cassie prayed to no one in particular in a whisper. She didn't even know what she was hoping for, but she knew a miracle was needed. She fumbled with the telephone and glanced at the Caller ID. It was a number she didn't recognize. "Hello, Cassie Ward speaking," Cassie answered professionally.   
"Hello, Cassie. This is Officer Zoe Hamilton with the city police."   
"What can I do for you, Officer?"   
"I think you need to come to the City Hospital as soon as possible. We have a young woman here who keeps saying your name. She won't, or can't, talk to anyone else."   
"Dear God. It's Rachel, isn't it? Is she all right?"   
"I'm afraid I don't know the specifics of her condition."   
"Why aren't you saying her name?"   
"I don't think anyone except those who need to should know who we have here."   
"Oh. Yes. Of course."   
"Tell the desk nurse you're there to see me. You'll be given directions from there."   
"Yes, thank you." Cassie ended the call, then turned to Ronnie. "We need to go to the City Hospital. Rachel's there." Her voice was calm and even. It was her conditioned response to uncontrollable situations, an attempt to keep herself from going completely hysterical. It was working to an extent now, though if she got another call, or if the drive took too long, she couldn't be sure how she would hold up.   
"On our way," Ronnie said as he pulled a tight U-Turn and sped out of the depths of 97th street. 

***

Ronnie dropped Cassie off at the main hospital entrance so she could run in while he found a parking spot.   
"Can I help you?" the desk nurse asked Cassie.   
"Yeah, I'm here to see Officer Hamilton."   
The woman's eyes widened. "Oh my God, you're -"   
"Yes, we both know who I am," Cassie interrupted before a scene could be started. "Just please tell me how I can get to Officer Hamilton."   
"Yes, of - of course." The nurse checked the notes on her computer. "She's with a patient in the ICU. Take the elevator over there to the second floor. Room 206 will be down the hall to your right."   
"Thank you!" Cassie pushed off from the counter, then weaved around a couple of rows of chairs before reaching the elevator and punching the up button. _Why is so much of today being spent waiting for elevators?!_   
When Cassie stepped out onto the second floor, she found the hall empty, so she ran down the hall, glancing at room numbers as she passed to make sure she was getting closer to 206.   
A middle aged woman with the first hints of gray in her blond hair was waiting at the door of room 206. Cassie slowed to a walk as she approached the woman. "Hi, are you -"   
"Officer Zoe Hamilton," the woman interrupted. "It's an honor to meet you, Ms. Ward." She held out her hand for Cassie to shake.   
Cassie accepted Officer Hamilton's hand. "Cassie, please. Um, how's Rachel?"   
"We're pretty sure she's going to pull through."   
Cassie collapsed against the wall. "Oh, thank God. What happened?"   
"We picked her up on prostitution charges early this morning. She solicited one of our undercover officers for a room and, if he could spare any, drugs and/or booze. She obviously has a problem because when we gave her a breathalyzer test, she had an unreasonably high Blood Alcohol Content level. It's amazing she wasn't passed out on the street from alcohol poisoning. We also just got the results from a drug test back and found she has a substantial dose of heroin in her."   
"Oh, Rachel," Cassie whispered.   
"We've kept her identity as secret as possible," Officer Hamilton assured Cassie. "Only two doctors have been allowed to see her and all of the documentation lists are as 22 year old Sara Jordan, which was the information on the fake ID she had on her when we picked her up."   
"Thank you. I'm sure she'll appreciate it."   
"It wasn't just for her," the officer admitted. "I don't think the world needs its vision of the reclusive Rachel Berenson tarnished by news of this."   
"No. Of course. Thank you, again, officer. May I go in and see her?"   
"Of course. She's been drifting in and out of sleep for awhile now, but I imagine she's going to get real sick real soon."   
Cassie tried to hide a grimace. "I know." Quietly, she pushed open the door to Rachel's room.   
It was dark, with the lights turned off and the shades pulled so light only came in at the edges. Rachel was hooked up to half a dozen machines, ranging from a heart monitor to a few IV drips. Cassie pulled a chair up to Rachel's bedside and carefully slipped one of her hands under one of Rachel's. "Hey, Rachel," she whispered. "I made it. I'm here."   
Rachel stirred slightly, then her eyes fluttered open. "Cassie?"   
"Yes, it's me. I'm right here next to you."   
Slowly, Rachel turned her head to look at Cassie, then took another moment to focus her eyes on the other woman. "Cassie, I've been asking for you for hours."   
"I was just called a few minutes ago. I came here as fast as I could."   
"Oh." Rachel turned and looked back at the ceiling. "I really fucked up, didn't I?"   
Cassie's first impulse was to argue, to try to soften the term. But there really was no other way to put it. Rachel wouldn't have put up with an argument. "Yeah, you kind of did."   
"I'm sorry."   
"So am I. Why. . . well, can you tell me why you did it?"   
Rachel turned to Cassie again. "You said I could leave when I could walk."   
"But you were doing so well! Don't you remember talking earlier this week? You talked about being cured. You were excited about meeting Ronnie and having the chance to be on your own for a little while."   
"And I fucked it all up. It was better for you that I left."   
"No, it wasn't. I was panicked when you weren't in the apartment this morning. I don't know what I would do   
if. . . if. . . ."   
Cassie's thought was interrupted by a light knock on the door. "Cassie?" Officer Hamilton said softly. "The doctors need to be with Rachel alone for a few minutes, all right?"   
"Yeah," Cassie said over her shoulder. She looked back at Rachel. "The doctor's going to see you now. I'm just going to be in the hall. I'll be back in here as soon as I can." She patted Rachel's hand softly before standing up and letting the doctors in.   
Ronnie was waiting with Officer Hamilton in the hall. "How is she doing?" Ronnie asked Cassie.   
Cassie shrugged. "She was able to talk with me a little, but I think she's very tired and very weak."   
"How long will she have to stay?" Ronnie asked the officer.   
"I don't know. There's a lot of variables in cases like this. How long since her last drink and shot, how much tolerance she had built up and her general state of physical and mental health all figure into how quickly she will heal." The officer turned to Cassie. "Would you mind giving me a statement? I need to know things like where she got her drugs and booze from. And why she wasn't home at four in the morning."   
"I don't know where she got anything from," Cassie said. "She wasn't at home because she's kind of between homes right now. She's legally emancipated from her mother and moved out of Tobias' place a few months ago. She's been staying with me for something like two months now, slowly being nursed back to health after a long drug and alcohol binge. She left my place around three this morning."   
The officer made a few notes in her notebook. "Well, I need to be getting back to the station. My shift's about to end. Thank you very much."   
"Thank you, Officer Hamilton," Cassie said as she shook the woman's hand again.   
"It's been an honor to meet you, Cassie. I just wish it had been under better circumstances." She shook Ronnie's hand, then walked down the hall toward the elevator.   
"I brought your cell phone in for you," Ronnie told Cassie. "I didn't think you'd have access to a private phone and I'm sure Jordan will want an update."   
"I'd better update everyone," Cassie said with a sigh. "This has just gotten out of hand. The others need to know what's happened." She looked to Ronnie for confirmation.   
"Yeah, of course," Ronnie said, though Cassie could tell her mentioning 'the others' made him uncomfortable. Even now Ronnie was paranoid about Cassie making contact with Jake. He never even suggested that she not talk to him; Ronnie knew that would make him lose Cassie in a heartbeat, but he preferred to be far away when Cassie and Jake did have to talk. "I'll just go then." He kissed Cassie briefly. "Keep me updated on Rachel. And give me a call if you need a ride home."   
"Of course I will." Cassie blew him a kiss, then sat down on the chair outside of Rachel's room. She turned her phone on and dialed Jordan.   
Jordan picked up on the first ring. "Hello?" She was trying to sound normal, but Cassie could hear she was stressed.   
"It's Cassie. We've found her."   
Jordan let out a deep breath. "Thank you," she whispered reverently, as if finishing a prayer. "Where is she? How is she?"   
Cassie gave a quick synopsis of what Officer Hamilton had told her. "I think it's time you told your mom. I plan on calling Jake and the others to let them know what's going on, too. Rachel may kill me, but I think this has gone too far."   
"Yeah. Can we come to visit?"   
"I guess so. But don't say you're here for Rachel. The police and hospital have been protecting her identity as much as possible. Only a few doctors have been allowed to see her and she's being identified on all paper work as," Cassie paused to remember the name she'd been told. "Sara Jordan."   
"What? Why _that_?"   
"It's the name that was on her fake ID. I don't know why she chose it."   
"I'm sure we'll be there in a few minutes. Thanks for calling me, Cassie."   
"No problem. Bye, Jordan."   
"Bye!"   
The doctor stepped out of Rachel's room as Cassie turned off her phone. She stood quickly to face the doctor. "How is she?"   
"The same. I was just making sure of that and checking the equipment."   
"I just called her family, they should be here soon."   
"I think that will be the best medicine for her. You may go back in now, I think she's waiting." Cassie thanked the doctor before going in.   
"That you, Cass?" Rachel asked weakly when she heard the door opening.   
"I thought we talked about you calling me 'Cass,'" Cassie admonished gently as she took her seat again.   
Rachel's mouth pulled up at the corners. It would have been a smile if she hadn't been so weak. "It was worth a try."   
"I guess. I just got off the phone with Jordan. She's probably going to be here with your mom and Sara in a few minutes."   
"Can I sleep through their visit? I don't. . . don't want to try to talk to Mom."   
"You can do whatever you feel you have to."   
"I have to sleep."   
"Now?" Rachel's response was a yawn. "Well, I want you to know, before you go back to sleep, that I'm going to call the guys and tell them where you are. If Jake and Marco have tried to call you at Tobias', I'm sure they're worried sick by now."   
"Why would they call me?" Rachel asked weakly.   
_She must really be out of it if she isn't fighting me on this._ "Because they're your friends."   
"Whatever." A pause. "Are you going to stay here while I sleep?"   
"I'm going to stay here until they kick me out."   
Rachel attempted to smile again, then whispered something unintelligible before drifting off to sleep. Cassie leaned back in her seat before pulling out her phone again. She had to search through the number listings in it to find Jake's number. It had been awhile since she had called him.   
"Good morning, this is Jake Berenson," Jake answered crisply.   
"Hi, Jake, it's Cassie."   
Jake's voice immediately lost its professional tone. "Hey, Cassie! Wow, it's good to hear from you. It's been awhile. How are things?"   
"Not good."   
Silence for a moment, then Jake asked hesitantly, "Rachel?"   
Cassie nodded before she remembered he couldn't see her. "I'm sitting with her in her hospital room."   
"Shit," Jake muttered. "What happened now?"   
"The police picked her up for prostitution, then discovered she had more beer and heroin in her veins than blood." It was harsh, but essentially the truth.   
"Oh, God. Why?"   
"I don't know exactly. I have some possibilities, but they'd all take too long to explain."   
"Is there anything I can do? I want to come, but I'm leaving for Washington in a few hours."   
"I don't know if Rachel would even want you to visit," Cassie told him gently. "She's planning on sleeping through her mom's visit."   
"Is Tobias there?"   
"That's another problem. He and Rachel broke up awhile ago, but I've kept in pretty regular contact with him about her. However, when I tried calling him this morning, I got a message that his number had been disconnected."   
"I was afraid something like that might happen if they split."   
"What do you think he's done?"   
"He may have returned to living in the forest, or maybe it's something as innocent as he didn't pay the phone bill. Do you have his address? I could find out before I leave."   
"Neither of them ever told me where they lived, though I know it's not the greatest neighborhood."   
"I'd figured that. Uh, I've gotta go. You'll keep me posted?"   
"Of course."   
"Good. Talk to you soon." Jake hung up.   
Cassie was searching for Marco's number when there was a light knock on the door. Cassie looked behind her and saw Naomi peek in. "May we come in?"   
"Of course." Cassie stood as Rachel's family filed in. "She's been sleeping for awhile.   
Naomi sat in the chair Cassie had just vacated. "Oh, my baby," she whispered as she took Rachel's nearest hand.   
Sara, only 12, looked terrified at the sight of her big sister hooked up to all of the machines. "You want to go into the hall?" Cassie asked her. Sara shook her head vehemently, paused, then nodded. Cassie followed her back into the hall.   
As soon as the door to Rachel's room was closed, Sara threw herself onto Cassie, sobbing hysterically. "Why'd she do it, Cassie? Why does Rachel want to die?"   
"Who told you she wanted to do that?"   
"Mom."   
Cassie hugged the girl and stroked her hair. "I don't think Rachel wants to die, Sara. I think Rachel is lost and confused. She's addicted to the drugs and the alcohol; it's really hard for her to stop."   
"But she was doing really good! I listened to Jordan telling Mom that Rachel was better!"   
"She was, for awhile, but when she had the chance to get more drugs, she couldn't resist."   
"I hate her," Sara said suddenly. "I hate her for making me leave home before, I hate her for getting famous, I hate her for leaving me, and I hate her for making Mom hate me!"   
_What is going on in this family?!_ "Why do you think your mom hates you?"   
"She doesn't care about me anymore. Ever since Rachel moved out she's only talked about her. She didn't even come to my last orchestra concert 'cause she was all worried about Rachel."   
"That doesn't mean your mom hates you. It means she's worried about Rachel. Maybe a little too much. It was wrong for her to miss your orchestra concert, especially when she knew Tobias and I had been looking for her constantly until I found her. She just needs to be reminded that she has three daughters, not one."   
"She never ignores Jordan."   
"Well, I know Jordan isn't always happy with your mom, either. Sometimes Jordan feels exactly like you do."   
Sara blinked at Cassie. "Why?"   
"She thinks your mom only pays attention to her to get information about Rachel. And she had to turn down a date with a really hot guy because she'd already agreed to stay with Rachel."   
Sara frowned again. "See? That's another reason I hate her. She's screwing up our lives, too, not just hers!"   
"I know, she's interrupted my plans as well."   
"Are you going to tell me not to hate her? 'Cause you'll be wasting your breath."   
"I won't tell you that. You can't help how you feel. I just hope you'll be able to forgive her eventually." _Before it's too late_, Cassie added silently.   
Sara shook her head, then sat defiantly on the chair. "Nope. I never will. And I don't want to go back in there."   
"All right. Do you mind if I do?" Sara shrugged, so Cassie opened the door to go back into Rachel's room.   
"Cassie?" Sara's voice was barely more than a whisper.   
"Yes?"   
"Can you tell her I love her? And I want her to stop being stupid an' get better soon?"   
Cassie smiled slightly. "Definitely." 

***

Naomi didn't want to leave Rachel's side, even though Rachel was completely non responsive. In fact, she was so still Cassie knew she had to be faking, since they had been talking earlier. Rachel was acting comatose. But Cassie was able to use it as an argument for Naomi to go out, if only to the hospital cafeteria, with Sara and Jordan for an early lunch.   
"Are they gone?" Rachel whispered when she heard the door close behind her family. Her eyes were still closed.   
"Yeah. For awhile."   
Rachel's eyes opened slowly. "I don't want her here. Jordan and Sara are okay, but not Mom."   
"I don't know what I can do about her. She's family, she can stay until you say otherwise."   
"But if I say otherwise, she'll know I was awake and she'll be pissed you didn't tell her." Rachel closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. "I'm sorry."   
"I am, too."   
"Have you called. . . them?"   
Cassie knew who Rachel meant. "Only Jake. I wasn't able to escape your family long enough to call Marco."   
"Am I going to end up like Marissa?"   
"No. The doctors are pretty optimistic."   
"Damn."   
"Rachel?"   
But Rachel couldn't answer. She'd fallen asleep again. Cassie was worried about what she meant, but knew waking Rachel would probably be the worst thing she could do at the moment. So she took the opportunity, possibly the last time she'd be alone for a while, to call Marco. 


	10. Chapter Nine

**Breakdown**   
**Chapter Nine**

Rachel was in the hospital for two weeks before it was decided that she was well enough to go home. Cassie and Rachel privately had a theory that the hospital staff was just sick of Rachel; she hadn't been the easiest patient, and Naomi's constant presence wore on everybody's nerves. Then there was the issue of Rachel's well-wishers. Word had gotten out that Rachel was in the hospital, though the circumstances surrounding her stay remained undisclosed. All of the hospital staff knew Rachel was there, but few knew where she was and fewer knew why. But it seemed half the world had sent Rachel everything from handmade 'get well soon' cards to huge bouquets of balloons.   
"I'll kill whoever told," Rachel muttered every time a gift was delivered while she was awake.   
Cassie was packing up most of Rachel's gifts the day she was released. Rachel was sitting in bed, telling Cassie what she wanted to keep and what should be thrown out. They'd convinced Naomi to leave by telling her the room was really too small to accommodate Rachel and her equipment, the gifts and two people packing them. Jordan and Sara helped, taking the opportunity to remind their mother of all the things she'd promised to do with them once Rachel was okay. All of them knew she wasn't, but she was doing better than she had been.   
Cassie held up a banner for Rachel's approval. "Made by the class of our third grade teacher."   
"Dump it," Rachel said. "Just dump all the damn cards. What the hell am I going to do with cards? Or flowers or balloons or any of this shit?"   
Cassie sighed. She was beginning to get used to Rachel's mood swings. She wasn't sure if this was a good or bad thing.   
"Cassie?" Rachel asked, her voice suddenly quiet after her mini-tirade.   
"Yeah?"  
"Have you ever felt like you don't belong here?"   
Cassie stuffed the banner in a trash bag. "Belong where?"   
"Here," Rachel repeated.   
"In the hospital?"   
Rachel sighed. "Forget it." She glanced around the room. "Hey, who sent the snap dragons? Those are cool. I want to keep them." 

***

Marco had dropped into town unexpectedly the day before Rachel was released from the hospital. Cassie hadn't been able to sneak him in for a visit, so she allowed him to drive them to her place to make up for it.   
Marco had talked almost non-stop the first part of the drive, trying to make up for Rachel's silence. He told them about his TV series, the movie that he was talking with Steven Spielburg about making, about his great girlfriend (they'd been together three months, a record for Marco), but he eventually ran out of topics since he was getting only minimal feedback from Cassie and none at all from Rachel.   
"This is your building, right?" Marco asked as he pulled up in front of the imposing brick structure. "Nice. Classic architecture, yet a decidedly modern touch."   
"And when did you become an architectural expert?" Cassie asked.   
"You pick random things up in show business, listening to producers and directors talk."   
"I see. You wanna come up?"   
"I'd love to, but I make it a rule not to go home with someone until at least the second date." He didn't even get a smirk out of Cassie. "Okay, yeah, you guys are tired. I think I'm the last person you want around. But call me sometime. Both of you. We'll get together later. Maybe I'll fly you out to LA."   
"Sounds like fun." Cassie got out of the car and went to Marco's trunk to pull out Rachel's things. When she'd finished, she found Rachel already out and leaning heavily against the side of the car. She still wasn't able to walk far on her own, though Cassie was impressed she'd been able to get out at all.   
Rachel saw Cassie's surprise. "He was driving me insane with all his talking," she grumbled as an explanation.   
Cassie laughed lightly in agreement. She slung Rachel's bags over one arm, offered Rachel the other, and managed to wave with her fingers at Marco before heading into the building.   
Nick was on door duty. "Good afternoon, Cassie, Rachel," he said brightly.   
Cassie stared at him. How had he known?   
"I began to put the clues together," Nick said in a low voice, "but I haven't breathed a word to anyone, don't worry."   
"Thanks, Nick."   
"Can I help you with the elevator?"   
"Please." Cassie and Rachel followed Nick to the elevator. He pressed the 'up' button for them, and then the button for Cassie's floor once the elevator doors opened.   
"I hate feeling so helpless," Rachel complained once the elevator was on its way. Cassie was tempted to say something petty like it was Rachel's own fault she was in this state, but Cassie knew that wouldn't help anything, and it wasn't _completely_ Rachel's fault: addictions were hard to fight. The counselor that had seen Rachel a few times at the hospital had told Cassie Rachel would only recover if she truly wanted to stay sober. Nothing Cassie said or did would stop Rachel until _she_ wanted to stop. Cassie hoped that the stay in the hospital had convinced Rachel.   
"Have I thanked you yet for staying with me?" Rachel asked as she sat on Cassie's couch.   
"You've thanked me every day for the past two weeks. You don't need to anymore. Now, do you want some lunch?"   
"Um, no. I don't think so. Not now."   
Cassie sighed. "You've hardly eaten in two weeks, Rachel. At the hospital you could get away with it, but I don't have an IV here to keep you going." Cassie sat next to her friend. "Is there something going on that I should know about, Rachel?"   
Rachel stared hard at her hands for several minutes before finally saying, "Have you ever felt like you don't belong here?"   
"You asked me that at the hospital. What do you mean by here?"   
"_Here_. Like . . . do you ever feel like . . . like you weren't supposed to - to survive."   
"Rachel, what are you saying? You aren't talking about suicide, are you?"   
Rachel laughed harshly. "No. Not suicide. Never mind I said anything. Maybe it's the lack of food. Lunch does sound good. What have we got?"   
It took all of Cassie's self control to not let Rachel see how disappointed and worried she was. She forced a smile as she stood up, but as soon as her back was to Rachel the smile vanished. _I will get you to tell me what's going on with you._

***

After first cutting back her work load, then taking a complete and unexpected two week vacation, Cassie couldn't afford to miss any more work for a long time. Cassie explained her itinerary to Rachel Monday morning. Rachel was eating a small bowl of Special K; Cassie was running around making sure she had all correct papers.   
"I'm going to be in various meetings all day, but I'll have my cell on and with me at all times. Call me if you need anything, Sara and Jordan have the day off from school for Labor Day - "   
"Wait," Rachel interrupted. "If it's Labor Day, why do you have to work?"   
Cassie put a piece of bread in the toaster. "They don't stop illegal logging of the rainforest for an American holiday. Anyway, they said they'd be over around nine and they'll stay until I get home."   
"Which will be . . . ?"   
"Five? Six? I don't know." Cassie grabbed the toast as it popped out from the toaster. "I have a lot of work to catch up on for a lot of people who aren't happy with me at the moment." She took a large bite of the toast before putting her jacket over her arm and picking up her two briefcases. "Bye!" Cassie called around a mouthful of toast. In a moment, she was gone.   
Rachel sighed and stared into her cereal. It tasted gross. Cassie was out of sugar so her Special K, while nutritious, was far from delicious. Rachel took the bowl to the trash and dumped out the remainder of its contents.   
"Now what do I do?" she asked the empty apartment. She glanced at the clock over the stove. It was quarter to eight. Over an hour before Sara and Jordan showed up.   
Rachel sat back down at the table and picked up the newspaper; hoping it would distract her for awhile, but she couldn't seem to focus on the words. Her mind kept wandering. She finally threw the paper down and checked the clock again.   
Five minutes had passed.   
Rachel wandered to the living room, sat on the couch and turned on the TV. She channel surfed through the various morning talk shows (big news of the day: Jake's visit to Washington. Rachel never stayed on a channel long enough to find out what he was doing there), the videos she didn't recognize on VH-1 and MTV, and the morning cartoons. Nothing worth watching.   
And she still had an hour before her sisters showed up. And that was if they got up on time, which was doubtful.   
Cassie had left the cordless phone on the coffee table earlier so Rachel could veg out in front of the TV without being interrupted by having to get up for the phone. Rachel reached forward, grabbed it from the table, and stared at it for a few moments.   
Cassie had said to call if she needed anything . . . an what Rachel needed right now was someone to talk to so she wouldn't go over to one of those inviting windows and look out and be tempted to go find a heroin stash. _I'm gonna stay clean this time,_ she vowed.   
Rachel checked the notepad that was on the coffee table. Cassie's cell phone number was written there in Cassie's precise handwriting. Rachel dialed it quickly.   
One ring. Two rings. Three rings.   
"Come on, Cassie," Rachel muttered.   
Five rings. Six -   
"Hello?! Rachel?"   
"Hi, Cassie!"   
"What's wrong?"   
"Nothing. I'm just bored. There's nothing to do and if I don't talk to someone . . . I'm afraid I'll do something stupid."   
"I just left twenty minutes ago, Rachel."   
"I know, and that's why I'm worried. Twenty minutes and I'm already bored stiff!"   
"Rachel, the traffic out here is a little nuts. I'm gonna get pulled over if a cop sees me on this phone."   
"Don't leave me, Cassie."   
"I don't want to, Rachel, but I have to or I'm gonna get in an accident. Why don't you call your mom and talk to her? Or Marco? Somebody to get your mind off things until your sisters arrive."   
"Okay . . . I guess."   
"Good. I've gotta go." _Click_.   
Rachel clutched the phone for a moment before hurling it across the living room. What the hell was she supposed to do now?! Call her mom? And talk about what, the date she'd had over the weekend? And it'd just be worse with Marco. She wasn't sure how; she just knew. And already she had a headache starting.   
"I should just walk out again," Rachel muttered. "That's show Cassie for hanging up on me." But even as she said it, Rachel knew it was a bad idea. Pissed as she was at Cassie for the moment, she also knew Cassie had helped her out more than she deserved. She probably wouldn't get a third chance if she screwed up again. "Three strikes and you're out," Rachel muttered to herself. "For good."   
Rachel check the clock again. 8:10. Still too long with nothing to do.   
Rachel laid back on the couch. "Nothing to do," she murmured. "Nothing, nothing, nothing . . . ." 

***

Rachel woke with a start when she felt herself being shaken. "Wha'? Cassie?"   
"She's awake, Sara!" Jordan looked down at her older sister. "No, it's me, Jordan. You were asleep. Like, _really_ asleep. Sara and I were getting worried."   
Sara suddenly appeared at Jordan's side. "I almost called 911."   
"Are you okay?" Jordan asked as Rachel sat up.   
"Yeah. I'm fine. I must have fallen asleep after Cassie left. There wasn't anything else to do."   
"Sleeping's fine," Jordan assured her. "You need you're rest. Especially if you don't have anything else to do."   
"You could do my homework for me," Sara said brightly.   
"Sara!" Jordan hissed.   
"What? It's a legitimate request," Rachel said. "You asked me to do homework for you before."   
"Yeah, but not when you were . . . sick."   
Rachel sighed and looked at her hands, which were folded neatly in her lap. "Yeah. I guess you're right."   
"So what do you want to do today?" Jordan asked in a fake bright voice that was eerily like her mother's. "There's the TV and the DVDs and . . . um . . . Cassie's gotta have a board game or two around here . . . ."   
"Get it? Board games? 'Cause you play them when you're _bored_!" Sara giggled at her wit.   
Rachel forced a smile. "That's gotta be the reason. But I don't think she has any, Jordan. And there wasn't anything on TV earlier. By now it's probably all trash talk shows and soap operas."   
"Yuck," Sara said.   
"I think I'll just sleep some more, if you don't mind."   
"I do," Jordan said. "We're under orders to keep you semi-active. No going to the mall to power shop, but you can't sleep all day, either. Weird sleep patterns don't help you in the long run."   
"When did you talk to the doctor?"   
"Um, I didn't, actually. I read it on the 'net. But Cassie told me, too, and she's probably talked to the doctors."   
"Well, if you get any brilliant ideas on what to do in this apartment, you can wake me then." Rachel laid back down. "Good night."   
A knock at the door kept Jordan from retorting. "Sara, don't let her sleep. Talk to her while I get the door."   
"Talk about what?"   
"I don't know. School? Just don't let her sleep!" Jordan stood on her tiptoes to look through the peephole in Cassie's door. Jordan recognized the man standing outside; the guy who visited Rachel and Cassie in the hospital. She couldn't remember his name, though. "Um, hi," she said when she opened the door."   
"Hi . . . Jordan was it?" Jordan nodded. "Cassie called me last night and suggested I come over for awhile today, too. Drop off some new movies, a few board games, just to give you guys something to do today."   
"Oh, okay. Come in," Jordan stepped back and opened the door wider. "Um, what's you're name again?"   
"Ronnie. How's Rachel doing?"   
"She's trying to sleep, but Cassie said we weren't supposed to let her." Jordan went ahead to the living room. Sara was bouncing in her seat by Rachel's feet to keep her sister from sleeping. Rachel had her eyes shut tight and looked very tense. Or pissed. Or both. "Hey, Ronnie's here with stuff to do."   
"Cool!" Sara bounced off the couch and ran to Ronnie, pulling things from his arms. "Ooh, movies! Hey, Rachel, Moulin Rouge! You liked that, right? And Spider-Man. Ooh, he's cute! Can we watch that? Please? _Please?_"   
"I don't care," Rachel muttered.   
"No way," Jordan said. "Spider-Man is _not_ cute. You want cute, we watch Moulin Rouge. Ewan McGregor's a hottie." Jordan turned to Ronnie. "Which do you think we should watch?"   
"Well, I don't know how hot Spidey or Ewan are, but I'm a fan of Nicole Kidman. And Rachel likes the movie, right?"   
Rachel pushed herself up. "You brought over loud movies to spite me, didn't you?"   
"I didn't know about the no-sleeping proviso. I just grabbed a couple of DVDs from my shelf at random, and a couple of games from my closet."   
"_Board_ games!" Sara began to giggle again.   
"Uh, yeah. Monopoly and Sorry."   
"Let's watch the movie first," Jordan said. She grabbed the DVD case from Sara. "You gonna watch, too?" she asked Ronnie.   
"Nah, I've got work to do today as well. Maybe I'll drop by tonight or tomorrow."   
"We're not gonna be here tomorrow," Sara said. "Mom won't let me skip school, an' Jordan has a big chemistry test."   
"Thank God," Rachel muttered. She hugged a throw pillow to her stomach. Playing with the fringe gave her something to do with her hands. "Wait, what am I going to do tomorrow? Cassie's got to work, right?" she asked Ronnie.   
"Yeah, she does, but I'm sure she's got something figured out. Cassie's good like that."   
Rachel began to toss the pillow in the air. "Yeah. Okay. I'm sure she does. Put in the movie, Jordan."   
"I'll see you ladies later," Ronnie said. He didn't get a response, so he quietly slipped out of Cassie's apartment. 

***

Rachel had never been the kind of person who could just sit and watch a movie. She had to be _doing_ something as well. But there wasn't much to do at Cassie's place. She finally resorted to pacing around the living room.   
"Rachel, what's wrong?" Jordan asked when it was obvious Rachel wasn't going anywhere.   
"I can't just _sit_ there and watch the movie. How can you? I have to do something!"   
Jordan stood up and took her sister by the shoulders. "Come on, Rachel. Sit down. You're going to wear yourself out."   
Rachel shrugged her sister off. "Then I'll be able to sleep." Rachel's pacing grew faster and more agitated.   
"Rachel?" Sara asked in a small voice.   
"I'm going fucking stir crazy!" Rachel slammed her fists against the wall.   
"Sara, go lock the door. Now," Jordan whispered. To Rachel she said, "I know. It's boring. But come on. It's just for one day. You've pulled through tougher situations than this."   
Sara snuck back into the living room. "Yeah, Rachel. Come on . They're almost to the funniest part of the movie."   
Rachel shook her head. "No. I can't. I've been confined to a bed for two weeks!" Rachel's knees suddenly buckled. Jordan leaped forward to grab Rachel. Rachel was the taller of the two, but Jordan was sturdier, especially since Rachel wasn't recovered from her heroin chic look.   
Rachel tried to escape from Jordan's grasp, but she was too weak to fight off her determined little sister. "Let me go," she pleaded.   
Jordan guided Rachel back to the couch and forced her to lay down. "If you stay put, I'll let go."   
Her fall had taken the fight out of Rachel. "Fine," she mumbled, then curled up into a ball, turning her back to the TV, and her sisters.   
"Should we call Cassie?" Sara whispered.   
"She said only to call if it's an emergency," Jordan said.   
"But -"   
"She's fine now. We'll tell Cassie when she gets home. Or if Rachel tries anything else." 

***

Cassie came home at precisely five o'clock that afternoon to find Sara and Jordan playing a violent card game on the living room floor with Rachel lying on the couch, watching the game only because there was nothing else to do.   
"Hey," Cassie greeted. Sara and Jordan barely afforded her a glance before returning to the game, but Rachel perked up immediately.   
"You're back!" Rachel sat up, making room for Cassie on the couch.   
Cassie took the seat. "Yeah. How was your day."   
"I was going fucking crazy. I don't know what I'm going to do tomorrow."   
"We're figure something out," Cassie assured, feeling more like a mother to a petulant child than Rachel's best friend. "Hey," she said to Sara and Jordan, "I don't want to interrupt your game, but your mom is expecting a call right about now."   
Jordan groaned. "I don't _want_ to go home."   
"I know you don't. But you have to. Your mother would kill me if you two didn't call when I said you would."   
"Fine." Jordan gave her stack of cards to Sara, then went to the kitchen to use the phone.   
"How're you feeling now?" Cassie asked Rachel.   
"Bored," Rachel answered flatly.   
"Do you have the strength to do out?" Rachel gave her friend a blank look. "I think it's time for you to re-join the land of the living. Nothing major, just dinner out. Think you can handle it?"   
"I don't know, Cassie."   
"It was just a suggestion. But you're the one who's been going stir crazy."   
"Yeah." Rachel thought for a moment. "Yeah. Let's do it. I can handle dinner."   
Cassie's smile was bittersweet. Rachel was coming back, even using her trademark phrase, but it saddened Cassie that Rachel had to talk herself into something as simple as dinner out.   
"Mom'll be here in a few minutes," Jordan announced.   
"Oh, God," Rachel groaned. "I think I'm going to be in the shower."   
"You took one this morning," Cassie pointed out.   
"You can never take too many showers."   
"Yes you can," Cassie said. "You have to stop avoiding your mother, Rachel."   
"Yeah, 'cause then she spends even more time bugging us," Sara said.   
Rachel made a face. "Fine. But she'd better not stay long."   
"She won't. It's a school night." Jordan put on a look of disgust similar to Rachel's. "She will be harping on us about the homework we were supposed to do today."   
Sara launched into an impression of Naomi, "How're you going to make anything of yourselves without a good education? You two aren't going to have being a super hero to fall back on."   
Cassie and Jordan glanced at Rachel to see her reaction; Rachel usually didn't take kindly to references to her hero status. Rachel's mouth twitched slightly in annoyance, but she covered it with a slight smile. "She's right, y'know."   
Sara groaned, oblivious to her faux pas. "I don't need _you_ agreeing with her now!"   
A buzz from the intercom interrupted the conversation. Cassie ran to get it. "Yes?"   
"A Ms. Naomi is here to see you, Cassie," Nick's voice said.   
"Thanks. Send her up." Cassie turned back to the sisters. "Your mom's on her way." The three other girls groaned in unison. Cassie shook her head. "I am so glad I'm not a mother."   
Rachel raised an eyebrow. "You mean you and Ronnie don't want to live in a sprawling farmhouse in the middle of nowhere with a dozen mini-yous running around?"   
Cassie laughed. "Ronnie? No way. He can't stand kids."   
Rachel looked incredulous. "So what happened to the promise we made in fifth grade to name our first daughters after each other?"   
"Well, there's no rush to decide anything. It's not like I'm engaged."   
"Yet."   
A sharp knock at the door preempted any retort Cassie could have supplied. She opened the door to let Naomi in.   
"Rachel!" the woman exclaimed the instant she saw her eldest daughter. She crossed the apartment in a flash and was sitting next to Rachel before anyone else could react. "How're you feeling, honey? You look pale. Are you eating enough?   
Naomi had begun to smooth Rachel's hair and clothing in motherly concern, but Rachel slipped out from under her mother and stood up. "I'm fine, Mom. Sara and Jordan and Cassie have been taking good care of me."   
"I'm sure they are. I just wish I could spend more time with you. Every time I call you seem to be sleeping or showering or something."   
"I'm fine," Rachel repeated.   
"If you're feeling better, then why don't we go out to dinner! Just the two of us, wherever you want."   
"Actually, Cassie and I have plans - "   
"Oh, no," Cassie interrupted. "don't let me stand in the way."   
"See?" Naomi said.   
But Jordan wasn't happy. "Mom! You promised to help me with my Government project tonight. It's due _tomorrow_."   
"And you said I could show you the recipe I learned in Home Ec last week tonight," Sara chimed in."   
"See, Mom? They need you more than I do," Rachel said. "You go with them tonight and I'll see you soon."   
"But - "   
"Naomi, could I talk to you for a moment?" Cassie interrupted. "We'll be right back," she said to the other girls as she led Naomi to her study.   
After closing the door behind her, Cassie turned to Naomi. "I know you're worried about Rachel, Naomi. We all are. But I have to tell you this, as Rachel, Sara and Jordan's friend: Rachel isn't the daughter who needs you most right now."   
"What do you mean?" Naomi asked sharply. Cassie had a feeling this was the attitude she gave her opponents in court.   
"Rachel has always been extremely independent. It's already killing her to have a baby-sitter all the time, the last thing she wants is her mom hovering over her all the time."   
"I do not 'hover.' I am _trying_ make up for those years that Rachel shut me completely out of her life!"   
"But you're doing that at the expense of Sara and Jordan." Cassie kept her voice even, not letting Naomi unsettle her. "They think you only pay attention to them when you want something. I think you and Rachel do need to spend some down time together, but there's plenty of time for that. She's getting better every day. But how long will it be before Jordan turns into Rachel and doesn't want to see you anymore?"   
"Jordan would never -"   
"And Rachel would never be a drug addict," Cassie said softly. "You can't predict the future; neither can I. I promise I'll make Rachel spend time with you _if _you'll spend time with Sara and Jordan so they don't feel so alone."   
Naomi glared at her eldest daughter's best friend. "How dare you tell me how to be a parent? You're a child yourself!"   
Cassie sighed. This wasn't exactly what she'd anticipated. "I know what Rachel needs and I know what Sara and Jordan want. They want a mother who pays attention to them. Rachel needs time to find herself again. Not the perfect daughter or the super hero, but who she really is. And she' can't - "   
Naomi didn't stick around to hear more. She stormed from the study and back to the living room where she ordered Sara and Jordan to follow her as she let herself out. Cassie followed just in time to wave to Sara, the last one out the door.   
"Shit," Rachel muttered. She was sitting on the couch again. "What did you do?"   
"I reminded her that Sara and Jordan need her more than you do."   
Rachel nodded. "Yeah. That would do it. You've got guts, Cassie."   
"Thanks. I think. Now hurry up and get dressed. We want to beat the dinner rush."   



	11. Chapter Ten

**Breakdown**   
**Chapter 10**

Rachel had no opinion about where they ate, so Cassie chose a nice restaurant where she was well known. She knew she wouldn't have a problem getting a private booth there, even during the busiest dinner hour.   
Rachel was glancing around the restaurant like an animal trapped in a cage. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been out in public, let alone at a nice restaurant like this one.   
After the server had taken their orders, Cassie folded her hands neatly on the table and focused her attention on Rachel. "After you called me this morning, I was preoccupied all day, considering what could be done if - if you just couldn't be alone for a day."   
Rachel focused her attention on her water. They both knew Rachel wouldn't last a day alone, but Rachel didn't want to admit it aloud. "Any ideas?" she muttered.   
"One. What if you came to work with me?" Rachel looked up. "You could help me out. Help me write speeches, keep track of appointments, et cetera."   
"Like your secretary?"   
Cassie sighed. "Yeah. I guess. I don't know what else to do."   
Rachel thought for a moment. "It does sound better than sitting in your apartment all day."   
"It is. It'll get you out and about; you'll no longer be the reclusive Animorph. You'll be out doing something good again."   
Rachel finally smiled. "I think I'd like that."   
There was a lull in the conversation as the server set their food on the table. As soon as the server was gone, Rachel grinned mischievously. "Of course, you realize what we'll have to do if I'm going to be your gopher at work."   
"What?"   
"Shopping."   
Cassie rolled her eyes. "I should have known."   
"Yes, you should have."   
Cassie smirked. "Same old Rachel." 

***

Rachel wasn't quite up to her old power-shopping self, but found several new outfits for herself, and even one for Cassie, before exhaustion and the stares of other shoppers got the better of her, so Cassie drove them both back to her place.   
It was usually Rachel's policy to try on clothes as soon as she got home, for whatever family members that had missed the outing and to be sure she still liked the clothes before she took the tags off. But on this night she said goodnight to Cassie, dragged her bags to her room, and fell asleep on the bed without changing. It was only 8 o'clock.   
The next morning, Cassie looked in to Rachel's room to find her friend sprawled across the bed, on top of the blankets. Despite her position, Rachel looked relaxed. Cassie was tempted to let her sleep, but she knew she'd just get a panicked phone call when Rachel woke up, demanding to know where Cassie was.   
"Rachel," Cassie called softly while knocking on the door frame. "Hey, Rachel. It's time to get up."   
Muttering incoherently, Rachel sat up on the bed. "I'm up," she said with a yawn. "Yuck. I feel like shit."   
"I think you may have exhausted yourself yesterday. Maybe you should stay -"   
"Stay here? No way." Rachel slid off the bed. "Just let me shower. And do you have bee - um, coffee? I think I need some of that."   
Cassie frowned at Rachel's slip. "We aren't going back to that now, are we?"   
"I'm half asleep, Cassie. You've never, like, said Jake's name when you meant Ronnie? I'll be fine after a shower and coffee." Rachel grabbed one of her new outfits out of its bag before stumbling into the bathroom. Cassie sighed, then went to the kitchen to make the coffee. An extra strong batch.   
Rachel came out of her room just as Cassie was pouring two mugs of coffee. Cassie could hardly believe the change the clothes and makeup had done; Rachel looked better than she ever had in the last year.   
It was a simple ensemble, and looked comfortable enough that Cassie probably would have worn it to an important meeting without much complaint. Black slacks and a silk turquoise blouse. The makeup Rachel had insisted on purchasing was put to good use as well; Cassie could only tell Rachel was wearing it because she didn't have circles under her eyes anymore. The only part of the outfit that may have given an onlooker pause were the long sleeves. It was unseasonably warm outside and air conditioning could only do so much. But Rachel and Cassie agreed that showing up for her first day of work showing off needle tracks wasn't the best way for Rachel to start.   
Cassie handed Rachel a coffee mug. "Ready for your public debut?" She kept her tone light, not wanting to give away how impressed she was by the makeover.   
Rachel took a tentative sip of coffee. "Ready as I'll ever be."   
Cassie gave Rachel a reassuring smile. "You're going to be fine.   
Rachel didn't answer, just drank her coffee while glancing over the headlines of the paper laying open on the kitchen table.   
Cassie stood by for a few minutes, enjoying the normalcy of the scene. Two women, standing in the kitchen, drinking coffee before work. _I could get used to this. . . ._

***

Rachel was kept busy at her first day of work. Running back to Cassie's office when she forgot something, keeping track of new meeting dates and the obligatory coffee runs were mundane, but a welcome relief from bed rest. Still, the end of Cassie's 3 o'clock meeting, the last of the day, couldn't come fast enough.   
since lunch had been a 15 minutes break consisting of Easy Mac and Coke, Cassie volunteered to take them out for an early dinner to celebrate a job well done. Rachel was exhausted, but agreed. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew she couldn't keep sleeping at random times.   
Cassie drove to a street corner cafe just a few blocks from her apartment building. It was early so the cafe was practically empty, but the staff and the few customers who were there stared at Rachel and Cassie from the moment the pair walked in.   
"My makeup still covers everything, right?" Rachel whispered to Cassie as they found a table as far from the other patrons as possible.   
Cassie nodded, then tugged at one of Rachel's sleeves that had rolled up in the course of the day. Rachel smoothed both sleeves, the message understood: with all the attention they were getting, rumors were sure to fly if the needle tracks were seen.   
"So how did you enjoy your first day back at work? Cassie asked after their orders had been taken.   
"'Back'? I've never worked a real job before in my life."   
Cassie looked confused. "You must have done something. You and Tobias -"   
Rachel rolled her eyes. "We had the shittiest apartment in town. Tobias would paint under a pseudonym. I . . . I didn't have the drive to do anything myself."   
"We don't have to talk about this now," Cassie said softly. She could already tell Rachel wasn't comfortable with the subject, and the last thing Rachel needed were witnesses to an emotional breakdown. _Wouldn't Naomi love to read that headline in a supermarket tabloid._   
Rachel nodded and sipped her Diet Coke. "But it was nice. Being useful, doing things that were helpful." She smiled cynically. "Nothing like my last career."   
Cassie sipped her own Diet Coke and, eager to change the subject, said, "You think you'll want to go back tomorrow?"   
Rachel smiled broadly this time. "I wouldn't miss it." 

***

By Friday afternoon, Rachel wasn't feeling quite so gung-ho about working.   
Her shortest work day had been seven hours, and now over the pizza they'd ordered in Friday night, Cassie was informing Rachel she didn't get the weekend off.   
"They want me to go out to Yellowstone, to check in with the Hork-Bajir. You're not required to go -"   
"But then we're back to the issue of what do I do while you're gone. I'm not going to ask my sisters to stay with me again and the last person I want to spend time with is my mom."   
Cassie sighed. "You need to see her sometime. You can't avoid her forever."   
"Watch me," Rachel muttered.   
"Okay, then what's your solution? Do you want to come out to Yellowstone with me?"   
"It's better than the alternatives."   
"I don't want you to settle for something you're going to be unhappy with. This probably is going to be a pretty mundane weekend, just checking in with the Hork-Bajir like I said. They'd love to see you, but -" the phone rang, interrupting Cassie's train of thought. She jumped up and grabbed the living room phone. "Hello?"   
"Hey, Cassie."   
A voice Cassie would recognize anywhere. "Jake! How are you?"   
"I'm doing well. Marco told me Rachel's back home with you?"   
Cassie winced. She'd been so busy recently she hadn't had a chance to call Jake. Or Tobias. "Oh, God, I'm sorry, Jake. I should have called -"   
"It's all right, Cassie. Marco called me the day Rachel was released and Jordan's kept me updated since. Marco and I have both tried called Tobias, but earlier today when Marco called, someone else was in the apartment, someone who'd never heard of Tobias."   
Cassie looked guiltily back at Rachel. She'd been so preoccupied she hadn't spared a thought for Tobias, breaking her promise to tell him everything that happened. "What are we going to do?"   
"I don't know what we can do. Tobias could slip into the forest and never be seen again. He knows how to hide. I think we have to trust that he'll show up when he's ready."   
_And if he never is?_ Cassie thought. "Anyway, did you call with any good news?"   
Jake's mood lightened immediately. "I did, actually. I'm in town this weekend and wondered if you and Rachel wanted to meet me for dinner once. Completely platonic, of course."   
"You know I'd love to, Jake, but I'm heading out to visit the Hork-Bajir tomorrow." She glanced back at Rachel. "However, what are you in town for?"   
"Taking a break. Visiting my parents. Why?"   
"Rachel's been working with me all week and doesn't feel up to going with me to Yellowstone."   
Rachel looked up suspiciously at the mention of her name.   
"So you want her to stay with me?"   
Cassie caught Rachel's suspicious glare. "If she could - hold on a moment." Cassie pressed the phone to her shoulder. "What?"   
"You're making plans without consulting me?"   
"You said you didn't want to go to Yellowstone."   
"But I don't want to stay with _Jake_! I'll go with you. At least see Toby again," Rachel muttered.   
Cassie turned around to hide her smile and lifted the phone to her ear again. "Never mind, Jake. She's coming with me."   
Jake laughed. "Of course. Rachel couldn't stand to stay at home if there was any chance of getting out and making trouble."   
Cassie didn't return the light hearted tone. "You haven't seen Rachel recently, Jake. She hasn't had a good summer."   
Jake sobered quickly. "You're right. I haven't. So why don't I take you both out for dinner tonight? Or bring something in?"   
"I'd love to have you over, Jake, but we've already eaten and Ronnie's actually coming over alter this evening. We haven't seen each other much."   
Rachel rolled her eyes.   
"Yeah, I understand," Jake said flatly.   
"But call me, next time you're in town, okay?" Cassie said hopefully.   
"Yeah. Sure."   
"Good Lord, Cassie," Rachel muttered. She stood up. "Give me the phone."   
"Jake? Rachel wants to talk -" was all Cassie could say before Rachel took the phone away.   
"Amateur," Rachel muttered to Cassie before putting the phone to her ear. "Jake?"   
"Rachel! Hi!" Now Jake's voice was artificially cheerful.   
"What were you and Cassie talking about?"   
"Rachel!" Cassie hissed.   
"Just telling her I'm in town for the weekend and wanted to take you two out, but you're leaving tomorrow and Ronnie's going to be there -"   
Rachel glanced back at Cassie. "Yeah, I know. But if you're serious on that offer, why don't you come bust me out of here?"   
"Are you sure?"   
Rachel looked to Cassie. "You know you two don't want me here." To Jake she said, "Yes, I'm sure. Why wouldn't I be?"   
"Well Cassie said you'd been working all week. I know a full work week can be exhausting."   
"I'm fine, Jake. I can sleep on the plane out tomorrow morning. Just come get me out of Cassie's hair for awhile."   
Cassie started to protest, but Rachel ignored her.   
"Sure, Rachel. When should I be over?"   
"Um, soon? I don't know." She looked to Cassie. "When is Ronnie coming over?"   
Cassie looked at her watch and sighed. "In half an hour."   
"Can you get here in twenty minutes?" Rachel asked Jake.   
"Sure. I'll have the doorman buzz you when I arrive."   
"Okay. Bye, Jake." Rachel hung up the phone.   
"Rachel, what are you thinking?" Cassie demanded. "First of all, you're not 'in my hair.' I love having you here. And are you really up for a night out? Twenty minutes ago you weren't up to going to Yellowstone with me tomorrow."   
"I wasn't up to it because more work doesn't sound appealing to me. But neither does living with Jake and his parents for a weekend. This is the lesser of two evils. And you don't _love_ having me around, Cassie. I bitch and complain all the time, and can you remember the last time you were alone with Ronnie? Besides, I certainly don't want to be around when you're being all romantic. Ew."   
"Oh, it's 'ew,' now?" Cassie laughed. "It used to be sweet."   
"And how many drugs was I on when I said that?" Cassie didn't laugh. "Medical drugs, Cassie. Geez, am I going to have to censor myself around you forever?"   
Cassie nodded. "You might."   
_Well that killed the mood._ "I'm gonna go get ready."   
Cassie nodded and while Rachel went to change, Cassie began picking up pizza boxes.   
The intercom buzzed while Rachel was still in her room. Cassie, who'd been waiting in the kitchen, pressed the speaker button. "Yes?"   
"Jake Berenson is here to see Rachel," an unfamiliar voice informed Cassie. She didn't usually have many interactions with the evening staff.   
"Send him up."   
"Ah, he requests that Rachel come down to meet him, ma'am."   
"Oh. Well. I'll tell Rachel. Thanks." Cassie let go of the button just as Rachel entered the room.   
"Was that Jake?" Rachel asked.   
"Yes," Cassie said. "Rachel, why does he want you to meet him downstairs?"   
Rachel sighed. "Cassie, you _don't_ tell your ex that your new fling is coming over for the evening. He's a little hurt right now, I'm sure."   
"But we're friends. He knows I've started dating again."   
"But you turned down seeing Jake to see Ronnie. You had to, I know, you made plans with Ronnie first and it would send him the wrong signals if you canceled for Jake. That still doesn't make Jake feel any better."   
Cassie nodded sullenly. "Well, he's waiting in the lobby. Tell him hi for me?"   
Rachel smiled. "Sure."   
"Oh, and we leave here at 8:30 tomorrow morning," Cassie told Rachel as Rachel opened the door. "Don't stay out too late?"   
Rachel rolled her eyes. "Yes, mother." She left the apartment and briskly walked to the elevator.   
Within minutes, the elevator deposited Rachel in the middle of the gleaming hotel-like lobby. "Rachel!" Jake called as he stood from one of the couches.   
Rachel grinned and walked to him. "Hi, Jake," she said as they hugged. "Oh, and Cassie says hi, too."   
Jake nodded, but otherwise ignored Rachel's message. "Come on, my body guard has to be freaking out that I've been in here so long." He began to lead the way out of the building.   
"Whoa, you've got a body guard?" Rachel asked as she nearly jogged to keep up with Jake. A growth spurt and a year of proper nutrition had helped him shoot up to be nearly a head taller than Rachel now, thus his legs were just long enough to outpace Rachel.   
Jake looked embarrassed. "Um, yeah. The government kind of thinks I'm too valuable to risk."   
"They honestly think someone's going to take a shot at you?" Rachel laughed at the absurdity of the thought.   
Jake's face darkened as he held open the back passenger door of a tinted-window SUV for Rachel. "They did. Two months ago. That's when I got Kyle here." He nodded at the man sitting in front of Rachel, then shut the door and jogged around the car to get in next to Rachel.   
"Jake . . ." Rachel said when they were on their way. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. I don't even know where _I_ was two months ago."   
Jake shrugged. "I never said I blamed you for that. I understand this has. . . hasn't been a good summer."   
Rachel laughed derisively. "There's an understatement."   
Jake sighed. "Y'know, I didn't want to see you tonight to relive the mistakes of the past."   
"What else is there to talk about?"   
"I want to get to know you again, Rachel. You know it's almost been a year since I saw you? A year's a long time to go without seeing your cousin."   
Rachel shrugged. "It's been hectic. I'm sure most of the time you didn't even realize I was gone."   
"But I did." Jake put a hand on Rachel's wrist. It took all of her self control not to pull away from him. "Every time I met some extraordinary, powerful woman, I thought 'Rachel would love to see this.' Every school I went to where a little girl asked if you were just like the books said, I wished you were there to show her for yourself. And especially every time Tobias had to come up with a story to cover your absence at a group function. We all knew something was wrong, but none of us dared to confront it."   
"Yeah, well, it kind of was a disaster when anyone did."   
"But maybe if we'd stepped in earlier -"   
"There's no point in 'maybe's and 'what if's. I made a huge number of mistakes. By myself. My fault. And I thought you didn't want to discuss the past?"  
Jake nodded. "You're right. But I can't seem to talk about anything else, so why don't you start something?"   
"Okay . . . where are we going?"   
Jake smiled. "Captain Sundae's. I figure this late in the year, this late at night, even on a Friday it can't be that busy. Besides, when was the last time you were there."   
Rachel smiled, genuinely. Captain Sundae's was a little ice cream shop all the local people knew, but no one else did since the place survived with zero advertising. "Years. I can hardly remember it."   
"Well, it hasn't changed. There it is." Jake pointed out Rachel's window as the driver pulled the SUV into the parking lot.   
Rachel couldn't hide her smile as she got out of the car. Captain Sundae's was a guilty pleasure she hadn't indulged in for far too long.   
Jake bought sundaes for Rachel, his driver, Kyle and himself. After deliver two to the men in the SUV, he and Rachel sat at a nearby picnic table.   
"So how are things going with Cassie?" Jake asked after a few bites of ice cream.   
Rachel nodded as she finished swallowing a bite of her sundae. "Good. Work's kind of boring. I'm a glorified secretary, but otherwise it's fun. Life's one long slumber party now."   
"And have you met this Ronnie guy?"   
Rachel stirred her sundae. "Yeah, I have. You know, I told Cassie she really shouldn't have told you that -"   
"No, I don't care that she's spending the evening with this guy," Jake said quickly. "It's fine. Great, even. I just want to know what he's like."   
Rachel raised an eyebrow at Jake's almost frantic answer, but didn't comment on it. Instead she said, "He's a good guy. You know, my presence has really cut into the time he and Cassie spend together, but he's never complained. He's always the perfect gentleman, which, admittedly can get a little annoying, but better that than being a jackass."   
Jake nodded. "Of course. I - I'm glad."   
After a moment of silence, Rachel said, "I'm sorry, Jake,"   
"No, no, don't be," Jake scoffed. "I'm fine, really. I'm glad she's happy. That's all I can ask for, right?" 

***

Cassie only had a few minutes to get herself ready between Rachel's departure and Ronnie's arrival. Thankfully, she was a low-maintenance person, and 'getting ready' meant changing from her business clothes to clean jeans and a blouse. She was stepping out of her bedroom just as Ronnie knocked on her door.   
"Hi," she said as she opened the door. Ronnie greeted her with a passionate kiss.   
"Hi," he replied when he finally pulled away. "Er, Rachel's not here, is she?"   
"No, actually," Cassie said. "Jake called. He took her out for the evening."   
Ronnie grinned devilishly. "Good. I was hoping something would have been arranged. I've been saving this for weeks." From behind his back he pulled out a bottle of champagne. "I knew having this around the apartment when Rachel was would just be stupid, so I saved it."   
Cassie eyed the bottle nervously. She'd had champagne before, but only a small glass at New Year's with her family. She and Ronnie were going to have to drink the whole bottle before Rachel got back. Or dump it down the drain. Cassie wasn't about to risk rachel finding alcohol in any form. Then she noticed Ronnie still had a hand behind his back. "And what's back there?" she asked with a nod. "A bottle of wine?"   
Ronnie pulled out a small basket, covered with a red and white checked picnic blanket and a single red rose tied to the handle with a red ribbon. "All the essentials for a romantic candlelit evening in your apartment."   
Cassie smiled and took the basket from him. "And what on Earth were you planning on doing if Rachel _was_ here?" she asked as she led him to the living room.   
"Stash this all in the hall and follow your lead," Ronnie said, turning out lights behind him."   
"So I have to follow your lead now?"   
"I don't think I'll demand anything you can't live with." He stole another kiss.   
Cassie was beginning to feel a little anxious as she unpacked the picnic basket. Normally she loved it when Ronnie randomly arranged a romantic evening for the two of them, but for some reason this one just wasn't setting right with her._ It's because of Jake's call_, she realized as she set out two tapered candles, champagne glasses, and a supermarket mixed fruit bowl. _It's thrown all of my plans off. This was supposed to be, for better or for worse, a night that involved Rachel._   
Ronnie lit the candles, then got up to turn off the final lights before returning to pour their first glasses of champagne. He lifted his glass for a toast. "To us. And seven months together. May there be many more to come." He and Cassie clinked their glasses together and drank.   
Ronnie seemed to understand Cassie's concerns over the champagne. Cassie's glass was hardly emptied before Ronnie was filling it again. Cassie wanted to protest, _knew_ she should protest, but it was very thoughtful of him. And the champagne was very good.   
Within an hour and a half, the snacks Ronnie had brought, along with the champagne were gone. He and Cassie were stealing kisses between idle conversation when Ronnie impulsively asked, "Can I stay over tonight?"   
Cassie stared at him for a moment before finally asking, "What?" _Intelligent, Cassie._   
"Can I stay over?" Ronnie repeated. "You know, spend the night."   
"Why?"   
"I haven't spent time alone with you in weeks, Cassie, and you're taking off again tomorrow. I don't want this night to end."   
Cassie laid her head on Ronnie's shoulder. "I know. It's just so hard. Between our careers and now Rachel...."   
"Who knows when we'll have another chance like this." Still Cassie hesitated. "I'm not trying to force you into anything, Cassie. I love you too much for that. Feel free to say no, I'll understand -"   
"That's not why I'm hesitating," Cassie broke in. "I'd like nothing more than to wake up tomorrow morning beside the person I love. I'm just considering whether I _can_, between leaving early tomorrow and . . . I hate to say it, but Rachel. How's she going to react -"   
"I'll go then. Her recovery is more important -"   
"But it isn't! I can't keep putting my life on hold for her. I have to do something for _me_ sometime and . . . and I think tonight is going to be it." Before she could lose her nerve, Cassie pulled Ronnie up and led him to her room. 

***

"Wait, wait, Marco told you he had a girlfriend?" Jake demanded of Rachel. After two rounds of sundaes each, Jake and Rachel were much more talkative, thanks to all the sugar. But Captain Sundae's did have to close eventually, so they were on their way back to Cassie's, though their conversation, which was jumping around rapidly, continued.   
"Yeah, why?" Rachel asked.   
"Well, I haven't heard anything official, but I do know that last time I visited him a very sheepish looking Ax was in Marco's kitchen."   
Rachel's jaw quite literally dropped. "You don't think -"   
Jake shrugged. "Like I said, nothing official. And if Marco does have a girlfriend, good for him. I last visited several months ago, you know."   
"_Some_ trashy tabloid would have reported _something_!"   
"No one's caught on that you're living with Cassie, have they?" Rachel shrugged. "We're super heroes, Rachel. We get a slightly higher ammount of respect than the average celebrity." He looked out his window as the SUV slowed. "Here we are."   
Rachel looked out her own window, up to one of the windows of Cassie's apartment. "I'd invite you up to at least say hi, but it looks like the lights are all off up there."   
"It'd probably be better if I didn't anyway."   
Rachel nodded. "Thanks for the ice cream, Jake. It was fun. And, y'know, something I needed."   
Jake smiled. "Anytime, Rachel. It was fun."   
Rachel nodded again. "Good night." She nodded slightly to the driver and Kyle before jumping out of the car and walking quickly to the inviting glow of the lit lobby. It'd been a long time since she'd been out alone at night.   
Once inside, Rachel smiled at the unfamiliar evening staff people. They all seemed to know her however, and let her go up to Cassie's apartment without comment.   
The door had been left unlocked for Rachel, since there hadn't been a reason so far for Rachel to have her own key. She slipped into the apartment and found she'd been right; there wasn't a light on in the place. Rachel didn't think anything of it, figuring Cassie had had her evening with Ronnie, but went to bed early.   
Rachel went towards her room, flicking lights on and off as she needed them. But she stopped when she got to the living room.   
The remains of Cassie and Ronnie's picnic was still in the middle of the floor. Including the champagne bottle.   
Rachel's stomach clenched at the sight of the bottle. It'd been _so_ long since she'd had alcohol of any kind. . . .   
_But I'm staying sober,_ Rachel reminded herself, _for Cassie_.   
But Cassie was usually pretty good about cleaning up after herself.   
_She was tired_, Rachel rationalized as she continued towards her room. She was unsteady, shaken by the sight of the champagne, but proud of herself for resisting. _She planned on me not looking around tonight and cleaning before I woke up tomorrow._   
Rachel continued to convince herself of this as she readied herself for bed, her last conscious thought being, _There's a logical explanation for everything._

***

Cassie awoke with a start the next morning when she felt sunlight across her face. Her head was pounding, so it was a struggle to sit up to look at the clock. She stifled a curse when she saw the time. She hadn't missed her flight, thankfully, but she didn't have the extra time she wanted - needed - to struggle with Rachel like she usually had to.   
"Ronnie," Cassie whispered. "It's time -" but when she looked at the bed next to her, it was empty. Cassie felt a little disconcerted - but then smelled the coffee brewing and smiled. Of course he'd thought of that.   
Quicker than she'd have liked to, Cassie forced herself out of bed and into the outfit she'd laid out yesterday for the trip - no time for a shower this morning; Rachel always insisted on having one and there wasn't time to argue.   
One hand shielding her eyes from the sunlight (the bad thing about an apartment with lots of windows, at least when you had a hangover), Cassie walked across the hallway and knocked on Rachel's door. "C'mon, Rachel. We overslept. Get up."   
"I am up!" Rachel called from the kitchen.   
Cassie's feeling of disconcertedness reappeared then. Rachel up with no prompting, no Ronnie next to her, coffee brewing - did Rachel even know how to use the coffee maker?   
As quickly as she could manage, Cassie stumbled to the kitchen. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or nervous to find Rachel and Ronnie as uneasy breakfast companions.   
"'Morning, hon," Ronnie greeted Cassie after standing from the table and giving her a kiss. "I wanted to make breakfast for you, but my fumblings in the kitchen woke Rachel and after a few failed attempts at French toast, we decided neither of us was domestic enough to cook and settled on coffee."   
"Well this was sweet of you," Cassie said as she sat at the table, "but you knew I wanted to be up early."   
"Since I got up all by myself like a big girl we turned off your alarm to let you sleep," Rachel said in a mockery of cheerfulness. "Besides, I figure with the hangover you've got to be nursing right now, you wouldn't have appreciated the alarm." Now all pretense of cheer was gone. _Shit_, Cassie thought. _She knows what happened and hates me for it._   
Ronnie's gaze shifted nervously between the two women. He had a pretty good idea that it was his presence that was upsetting Rachel. And he really couldn't blame her. Hadn't Cassie promised Rachel at one point there'd be no men at the apartment? _Then again, can Rachel remember that long ago?_ he wondered with a hint of bitterness. But shook it off quickly. That wasn't fair.   
"Y'know, I know you still have to get ready for your trip, so I'm gonna go," Ronnie announce. He gulped down the last of his coffee. "Bye, Cass." Ronnie caught Rachel's glare as he kissed Cassie. "Uh, thanks for your help, Rachel."   
Rachel forced a smile. "No problem."   
"Have a safe trip, you two. And I'll see you when you get back. Um. . . love you, Cassie."   
Cassie smiled hesitantly. "Love you, too. Bye."   
Ronnie nodded and let himself out.   
Cassie rested her head in her hands. "That wasn't too awkward."   
"No. No it wasn't," Rachel said bitterly.   
"Rachel, I can explain -"   
"I don't know if we have time, but you can start," Rachel snapped. From beneath the table she pulled the empty champagne bottle. "Alcohol, Cassie? How could you bring this here and let me find it? Do you know how much of a shock it was to find this last night? It was late, I was tired and then there, in the middle of the living room, is a bottle fucking _champagne_?"   
"I didn't bring that, Ronnie -"   
"Oh. _Ronnie_. Do you want me to start on that one?" Rachel didn't wait for a reply. "The night before you're taking me on a business trip you practically coerced me into, you're inviting your boyfriend to spend the night? Of all times to do this, Cassie?"   
Cassie massaged her temple. "Rachel, you're not being fair -"   
"I'm an addict in recovery, I don't have to be fair."   
"But you have to understand what happened! Ronnie showed up with the champagne, we drank all of it, knowing none could be left you tempt you and . . . you know how that much alcohol can impair your judgment."   
"I know I do, Cassie, and that's why I'm freaking out! I don't want what happened to me to happen to you!"   
Cassie finally met Rachel's eyes to find they were filled with tears. "That's what this is about?"   
Rachel nodded miserably. "All my life, Cassie, I've done everything I could to protect you. From bullies in school to - to David to God knows what else. And now our roles are reversed but this," she indicated the champagne bottle still clutched in her fist, "is something I can control. Or thought I could."   
"It was one night, I promise it'll never happen again."   
"Yeah, I've heard that one before."   
Cassie frowned. "When have I -"   
"Not you. Me."   
Fighting against nausea now, Cassie stood and went to hug her friend. "I promise, I really do, that what you've gone through is never going to happen again."   
Rachel hugged Cassie tighter. "You can't promise that."   
"Take a break, Rachel. Let me be in charge. And just watch me."   
"Okay," Rachel whispered.   



	12. Chapter Eleven

**Breakdown**   
**Chapter 11**

"Rumors have been flying recently as Animorphs Cassie and Rachel, formerly one of the most reclusive of the five human Animorphs, continue to make public appearances together as Cassie's beau, Ronnie Chambers, becomes a memory. There have been no official reports of a breakup, and Cassie maintains that she and Ronnie are together. The video, however, seems to tell a different story." As the CNN anchorwoman spoke, video clips played of Rachel and Cassie together at events ranging from press conferences to White House dinners. "Cassie says that the sudden emergence of Rachel always at her side is part of Rachel's recovery from a prolonged, yet undisclosed illness. Reports suggest drug addiction, but Rachel, Cassie, Marco and Jake refuse to comment."   
Now a short clip of Marco being questioned by a talk show host about Rachel's alleged drug addiction: "I don't know anything about that," Marco insisted. "Rachel's been sick off and on for awhile. It's not my place to pry into why."   
The anchorwoman came back on screen. "The fifth human Animorph, Tobias, has become as reclusive as Rachel once was and has been unable to be reached for comment."   
_ And it's going to stay that way,_ thought the 17 year old boy, dressed in clothes a season out of fashion with dirty blonde hair badly in need of a hair cut, that no one had noticed yet, even though he'd been standing in front of the department sores' wall of TV screens for the better part of an hour, waiting for this one news report.   
"In other Animorphs news, preparations for the second anniversary of the Yeerk war's end are underway in Hollywood as five of the six Animorphs, Jake, Rachel, Cassie, Marco and Prince Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill gather this weekend in Marco's LA home. This year will mark the first time Rachel and Prince Aximili have appeared at any of the festivities. Of course, this is apparently also the first year that Tobias will miss them. . . ."   
Tobias didn't stick around to hear any more. He'd heard more than enough. 

*** 

". . . preparations for the second anniversary of the Yeerk war's end are underway in Hollywood as five of the six Animorphs, Jake, Rachel, Cassie, Marco and Prince Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill gather this weekend in Marco's LA home. This year will mark the first time Rachel and Prince Aximili have appeared at any of the festivities. Of course, this is apparently also the first year that Tobias will miss them, due to -"   
Jake turned the TV off. "You'd think CNN would have something better to report on than who's at your house, Marco."   
Marco shrugged. "I've gotten used to it. I'm sure if we were anywhere else they wouldn't care half so much, but seeing as how I'm a celebrity," Marco shrugged again helplessly.   
"I used to have a lot of respect for CNN, but it seems all they report today is tabloid fodder," Rachel said.   
The five Animorphs were indeed gathered in Marco's home in LA. Rachel and Cassie were squeezed together in an oversized armchair. Marco and Ax were sharing the couch and Jake was sitting in an arm chair. They weren't exactly preparing anything, however. That's what press agents and speech writers were for. Besides, they didn't have to make any public appearances for two days.   
Rachel, nearly back to her old strength, was having a pleasurable feeling of _deja vu_ at the situation. Take away the house with every modern luxury a person could imagine and place the group of young adults in a barn with caged animals everywhere and it was just like one of their old meetings. Minus the threat of danger, of course. And Tobias. Can't forget Tobias, Rachel thought bitterly. The deja vu feeling wasn't as pleasurable anymore.   
"Amen to that," Cassie said. Before Rachel came back into her life, Cassie was the Animorph least likely to show up in the tabloids; Rachel had shown up more often. But now Rachel's and her names were always connected. It was beginning to become disconcerting.   
"Don't tell me you don't like the publicity," Marco said.   
"I don't, actually," Cassie replied. "It's not like these rumors are contributing anything to my work, or calling attention to it. They're just a nuissance."   
"And why aren't they coming up with any new rumors about you three?" Rachel demanded of the men in the room.   
Jake shrugged. "We haven't been doing anything, within the scope of their camera lenses, anyway, that's outside of our normal pattern of behavior."   
"And your press has never been very interested in my behaviors. Veeyors," Ax said.   
Marco looked about ready to answer when the doorbell rang. "What the hell?" Marco asked. "No one should be ringing the doorbell. Security has to let them through, and tell me when they're sending them. Hold on," Marco said to the others as he stood up.   
"Want us to go with you?" Jake asked.   
Marco shook his head. "Somehow I don't think this'll be anything I can't handle."   
"Marco, if they got past your security people, don't you think you should be a little worried?" Cassie asked.   
"We're going with," Jake said firmly as he stood from his chair. Ax and Cassie were right behind him, with Rachel lingering only a moment before joining her friends on her feet.   
Normally Marco would have made a smart alec comment, but the truth was he did find it a little strange and unnerving that someone had gotten so close to his house. The reinforcements couldn't hurt, thought he did feel a little silly walking to his own front door in a pack.   
Never having anticipated unexpected guests, Marco didn't have any way to check who was outside his door without opening it. After taking a deep breath, Marco grabbed the doorknob and pulled the door open a few inches so he could peek out.   
He nearly slammed the door shut again in shock.   
"Tobias?" Marco asked as he opened the door further, just to be sure.   
The boy standing on Marco's doorstep, wearing a rather shabby looking morphing outfit, smiled ruefully at Marco. "Surprise."   
Almost immediately, all the Animorphs were standing on the front step, hugging and shouting and crying over Tobias.   
All the Animorphs except one, however. Rachel was still standing just inside the doorway, too shocked and confused to step out to greet her former boyfriend.   
After a few minutes, Cassie noticed Rachel's absence from the group. She stepped back from the chattering guys to see Rachel hadn't moved from the doorway since Marco had opened it. Cassie quietly went over and put a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Are you okay?" Cassie asked softly.   
Rachel nodded, the shook her head, then shrugged. "I don't know what I feel right now, Cassie, and it kind of scares me," Rachel whispered.   
"Come on," Cassie said as she put her arm all the way around Rachel's shoulders, "let's go inside and talk for a bit. The guys can find us when they're finished catching up out here." Rachel silently nodded her agreement and let Cassie lead her back to the living room.   
"So what's up?" Cassie asked as she and Rachel sat on the couch.   
"I don't know," Rachel repeated. "It's been almost a year since I've seen him, Cassie. What am I supposed to do now? Kiss and make up with him?" She laughed harshly. "That's not going to happen."   
"And no one expects it to," Cassie assured Rachel.   
"How do you know Tobias doesn't? The entire world knows I'm here, how do you know Tobias didn't choose to show up now because he knew exactly where I was and is hoping to win me back somehow."   
"I don't think Tobias is that devious. He loves you, Rachel. Or he did, once. And when I first picked you up, he knew not to push you to go back to him. He's not going to try something like that now."   
Rachel hardly registered Cassie's words; she kept going with her previous though. "Because I don't love him, Cassie. I don't know if I ever did, but I know now for sure that I don't. I don't even know if I like him all that much. I was...I was so frustrated and so drunk when I last saw him that I don't remember half of what I said, but I know none of it was positive. I don't even know how much I meant and how much was whatever alcohol I had in my system talking."   
Cassie held Rachel close. "You don't need to worry about that, now. Tobias understood all that, and I'm sure he still does. He's not going to take you back if you don't want him to."   
"Stay with me, Cassie. Please," Rachel whispered into Cassie's chest.   
Cassie felt like she was going to cry. Rachel had gotten so strong and now she was suddenly have a relapse into her old behaviors. But what could she say? "Of course I will, Rachel. I'll be here the whole time."   
When the four guys came back to the living room, they found Cassie still holding on to Rachel, with Rachel half asleep in her arms.   
"Is she...is she okay?" Tobias whispered to Ax.   
"I do not know," Ax whispered back. "She was fine ten minutes ago. I do not understand what has happened here."   
Cassie looked up when she heard Tobias and Ax whispering. "Oh, hi, guys," she said overly bright. "Rachel's just a little tired. You know, it was a long car ride here this morning. I'll just take her back to her room, quick, then we can keep talking." Gently, she helped Rachel off the couch and walked her down the hallway that led to the bedrooms, leaving the guys alone once again."   
"What happened to her? I thought - I mean, she looked, on TV -" Tobias sputtered when Rachel and Cassie were out of sight.   
"Calm down, man," Marco said. "I don't know what's going on. I thought she was recovered, too. I know Cassie's been taking really good care of her, and Rachel's been really committed to getting better as well."   
"Seeing you again was probably just a shock," Jake said. "I know I was surprised. We'd - I had - begun to...wonder if the worst had happened."   
Tobias shook his head ruefully. "Can't say I didn't wish for it a couple of times, but no. I'm alive and, for the most part, well."   
"Where have you been?" Jake demanded. "We've been searching for months!"   
Tobias shrugged. "Around. Hopping from forest to forest. Even trecked out to visit Toby, once. Made her promise not to tell anyone I'd been by. You might not believe this, but it felt good to be flying again. I really missed it. And, you know, once Rachel took off...there wasn't much keeping me in that Godforsaken slum we lived in."   
"You should have come to one of us," Jake said quietly. "You know we would have helped you out. Before or after all this started."   
Tobias shook his head. "All that time with Rachel began to give me some of her personality quirks. I could be just as stubborn as she was. It was enough that you all were looking out for her. I couldn't ask for more."   
Marco shook his head. "You could have. But whatever. You're here now, Rachel's here, for the first time in two years we've got the whole gang back together. I think that's cause for a celebration. Want to start a media circus and have all of us go out for dinner?" he asked with a sly grin.   
Tobias looked down at his morphing suit. "Somehow I don't think you're going to take us anywhere where this would be appropriate attire."   
"You haven't seen the number of closets I have in this place, Tobias. Rachel's envious of all the clothes I have. Trust me, we'll find something for you to wear." Marco looked to Jake. "You up for it?"   
"Why don't you go talk to Rachel and Cassie?" Jake suggested. "I think those are the two you have to worry about."   
"Why?" Cassie asked as she came back to the living room.   
"I was offering to take everyone out to dinner tonight," Marco said. "You know, it's the first time we've all been together in two years. We could give all those tabloid reporters heart attacks from the shock."   
"Hm. They'd certainly leave us alone after that, wouldn't they?" Cassie mused. "Why don't we give Rachel about an hour before going out anywhere? Plus that'll give the rest of us time to catch up." 

*** 

When Cassie proposed the idea of going out to dinner with the group, Rachel was hesitant, but knew she'd attract even more questions and speculation if everyone was seen without her. So she agreed, though only after Cassie promised to be by her side the entire evening.   
Rachel had only brought a fraction of her ever growing clothing collection with her to LA, so it didn't take long for her to find a dress that'd be suitable for any place Marco intended on taking the group. Even so, when she emerged from her bedroom, the other five Animorphs were dressed and waiting for her back in the living room. Rachel smiled nervously at the group, though noticed that Tobias kept his eyes averted from hers. "Are we ready to go?" Rachel asked.   
"If you are," Marco said. He tossed his car keys into the air, then caught them. "One of the drivers has the limo waiting for us down at the front gate."   
"You have more than one driver? When did that happen?" Tobias asked as they left.   
Cassie took Rachel's arm as they brought up the rear of the group walking towards the limo. "You sure you can handle this?"   
"I have to," Rachel insisted, though deep down part of her wasn't so sure.   
Marco took the group to a very upscale restaurant with a French name only he could pronounce. It was rather small, but the tables were far apart to give everyone privacy. "The press shouldn't be able to get to us in here," Marco told everyone as they sat down, "but no guarantees for when we leave. Who knows how many staff people are freelancers for those people and are calling in to the editors right now."   
"Oh, joy," Rachel muttered. She was seated next to Cassie, as promised, and Marco. Directly across from her, however, sat Tobias. Neither seemed very comfortale with that arrangement.   
"But let's not worry about that, now," Marco said brightly. "Worry about the food. It all looks really weird, but it's all delicious. Trust me."   
Rachel was nearly silent throughout dinner, content to listen to the others talk, catching Tobias up on everything that had happened in their lives that hadn't been broadcasted on the news. Cassie would touch Rachel's leg under the table occassionally and give her friend a concerned look, making sure that Rachel was still doing okay. Rachel always smiled back.   
As Marco had predicted, hoardes of photographers and reporters were outside the restaurant when the Animorphs were leaving, three hours after entering. Marco strode through the crowd purposefully, ignoring the flashbulbs and shouted questions. The other Animorphs, especially Rachel and Tobias, were unused to such blatant paparazzi tactics and followed Marco closely, unconsciously ducking away from the lights and questions.   
There was a collective sigh of relief when the Animorphs reached Marco's limo, but the ride back to Marco's house was mostly silent.   
When they reached Marco's again and were all getting out of the limo, Tobias lingered near the limo door until Rachel, the last one, stepped out. "Rachel?" he asked hesitantly as she made to walk past him without acknowledgement.   
Rachel stopped, and grabbed Cassie's wrist to make her stay as well. "What?" Rachel demanded shortly.   
"I just wanted to talk to you for a minute." He glanced to Cassie. "Alone."   
Rachel looked frantically between Tobias and Cassie. Cassie gently slipped her wrist out of Rachel's grasp. "You need to go do this now. I'm just going to be inside." Before Rachel could protest, Cassie walked up the drive towards Marco's house.   
Rachel sighed and folded her arms over her chest when she looked back to Tobias. "What?"   
Tobias had been preparing what to say to Rachel the entire time he'd been flying to Marco's, but all of his elegant speeches left him now. "I. . . I guess I just wanted to know. . . if there was any chance. . . if there was anything between us now."   
"No."   
"No?"   
"No, Tobias. There's nothing between us. There's no chance of there being anything between us anymore." She had to be tough now. Tobias was confirming all her worst fears about his purpose for visiting. She couldn't let him see any weakness. It might be just enough of an opening for him to take advantage of.   
"Why not? Don't you know that I love you?"   
"Tobias, I'm 18. I don't think I even know what that word means. Not in the sense you're saying it, anyway."   
"What do you mean?"   
Rachel sighed. His questions were already beginning to wear at her resolve. This didn't look good. "You've never seen the real me, Tobias. You've seen the obsessed fighter, the terrified girl and. . . and the alcoholic. How can you be in love with any of that?"   
"How can you ask me to rationalize an emotion like love?"   
Rachel shook her head. "Okay, fine. You say you love me. But then why did you disappear for almost a year? Immediately after I took off, sure, I understand you not wanting to see me. I probably would have killed you if I'd had any strength. But then even Cassie couldn't get a hold of you. You didn't care about my progress at all."   
"That's not true, Rachel."   
"Then you explain it. Why did you abandon me?"   
Tobias was silent for a moment. "I didn't abandon you. I never would have done that. It was you who abandoned me."   
"Bull shit," Rachel spat. "I don't have to listen to this, I'm going inside." She turned to leave but, like he had done a year ago when she tried to storm off, Tobias grabbed her hand.   
"Stop, Rachel. Just for a minute and listen to me!"   
"Let go of me, Tobias," Rachel said in a low voice.   
"I don't want to go through this again, but I can't watch you walk away again."   
"Well you're going to have to." With more strength than she'd felt she'd had all evening, Rachel pulled her arm away and stormed into Marco's house.   
Cassie was waiting for Rachel in the front hallway when Rachel stormed into the house, slamming the door behind her. "Rachel?" Cassie asked. "What's wrong? What happened?"   
Rachel never stopped walking. "I don't want to talk about it," she said over her shoulder as she went to her room.   
Before Cassie could go after Rachel, Tobias practically ran into Cassie in his haste to catch up to Rachel. "Where'd she go?" he demanded.   
"To her room, I think," Cassie said. "What happened?"   
"I'll tell you later," he said, and started to follow Rachel's path. But Cassie was prepared this time and held Tobias by the shoulders. "You don't want to explain it to me? That's fine. But Rachel looked really pissed off when she came through here. I don't think seeing you again would help the situation."   
"I'm not going to let her stay angry at me."   
"It's not your decision whether she stays angry or not. She needs to decide in her own time how she feels about you. Try again tomorrow. And not when she's in her room. She'll just feel trapped if you try confronting her again."   
Tobias sagged, all the tension draining from his body. "I just don't want her to hurt anymore, Cassie."   
"None of us do. But we're doing all we can to get her back to her old self. I promise." 

*** 

Rachel spent most of the time in her room that night pacing around it. She was still in the dress she'd put on earlier, but she'd kicked off the heels and pulled out the pins holding her hair up. She'd cried intermitantly, from frustration and confusion, which had caused her makeup to run. She looked like an unholy mess. But she didn't care.   
Rachel had been convinced that she was, for lack of a better word, cured. She was much calmer now than she had been since the first few days after the war's end. She was eating again and getting a full night's sleep consistantly. But now, with Tobias' reappearance, all her hard work was being defeated. She'd been edgy ever since Tobias showed up on the doorstep, she had only picked at her supper and could barely taste the little she had eaten, and now it was two in the morning but she wasn't even slightly tired.   
"I need to get out of here," she finally whispered to herself.   
When she and Cassie had visited Marco here earlier in the year, he'd given them a detailed tour, which included all the security procautions he had taken. However, Tobias had obviously gotten by them easily enough. . . .   
And that gave Rachel an idea.   
Frantically she pawed through the dresser, looking for something - anything - that could serve as a morphing outfit. Not planning on ever needing it again, Rachel had gotten rid of her original one a long time ago.   
She didn't have much with her, certainly nothing she could get away with wearing in public, but she did have a sports bra and a pair of boy-cut panties that would due. She slipped them on quickly, then shoved her dress and shoes into a small duffle bag. Careful not to make any loud sounds, Rachel went to the window and pushed it open. The bedroom she was in was on the first floor, as was Cassie's; the others were staying on the second or third floors of the house. If it weren't for all of Marco's security, it would have been nothing to climb over the window sill and make a run for it, but as it was Rachel had to gently toss the bag onto the ground, just beyond the row of hedges that ran around the entire house. Then she stepped back inside and closed her eyes to focus on the owl DNA she hadn't used in years.   
When the changes began, it was like Rachel had never stopped morphing. She'd been half afraid she somehow wouldn't remember how, or all the drugs would have affected something, but the morph went as smoothly as she could expect a morph to. Within a minute she was a snow white owl. She hopped up to the window sill and effortlessly glided to the ground to grab the duffle bag strap in her talons. It took some effort to pull the awkward bag into the air, but she managed and flew over the security gate that bordered Marco's property without anyone noticing.   
Marco's backyard faced a small patch of woods, which suited Rachel's purposes perfectly. She flew in there and demorphed in the shadows. She stuffed her bra back in to the bag - it never would have worked with the dress - then slipped back into her clothes and shoes.   
A sharp pang of guilt made Rachel look at Marco's house. It was dark inside. No one had any idea what she was up to.   
_ I can still go back,_ Rachel thought. _No one has to know what I'm trying to do._ But even as she thought it, Rachel knew she couldn't do it. Besides, she wasn't exactly running away. She had every intention of returning before anyone noticed she was gone. She just needed to be outside for awhile. Staring at the same four walls all night had begun to make her claustrophobic and she couldn't think coherantly under those circumstances.   
Wincing as she took her first step away from the house and her heel sank into the soft dirt, Rachel walked along the edge of the woods until reaching the sidewalk that passed in front of Marco's house. Glad to be on solid ground again, Rachel started walking. Away from Marco's.   
Every step lifted the weight that had been settling on Rachel's shoulders through the course of the evening. Every breath of cool night air cleared her head. By the time the sky began to lighten with the oncoming dawn, Rachel was feeling like herself again.   
There was just one problem however. Rachel hadn't walked in a straight line from Marco's house. And she'd been so out of sorts when she'd set out, she hadn't kept track of her path.   
"Shit," Rachel muttered. Suddenly the plan that had sounded so great four hours earlier was turning into a nightmare. Or, perhaps more accurately, a bad memory. Wandering unfamiliar streets in provocative clothes. . . all that she needed to complete the image of her past life was a needle to make her faded tracks stand out again.   
Cars were beginning to appear on the streets Rachel walked along. People on their way to work. But panic was begining to settle into Rachel's brain and she could only picture that each car she heard approach from behind was going to slow down and pull up next to her.   
Unable to take much more of that thought, Rachel ducked into the next side street she happened upon and leaned up against the cool brick of a building, closing her eyes and taking deep steadying breaths.   
Only to have all her calming efforts counteracted when she heard people's voices coming closer to her.   
Rachel opened her eyes wide and found, to her shock, that she hadn't stepped into a side street, but rather a dark back alley. It was connected to the main street but, if she was reading the signs posted on the walls in the half dawn light, it was meant for deliveries only.   
Perhaps the voices were of delivery people?   
Nervously, Rachel glanced around, looking for the source of the voices. Farther back into the alley it was nearly impossible to see details, but she thought she saw the silhouettes of two figures huddled together.   
_ Leave now_, Rachel told herself. _Before they see you._   
Amazingly, Rachel's body listened to her mind. But she'd forgotten to take the hard heels of her shoes into account and her first step practically echoed in the enclosed alley.   
"Who's that?" a voice demanded.   
Panicking again, Rachel tried to run, but she stepped on her foot wrong and collapsed to the ground. "Ouch," she hissed. "Shit." Her right knee was already starting to bleed and had tiny pieces of sand and gravel stuck to it. Her ankle hurt for a moment, but didn't feel strange.   
Running footsteps came towards Rachel from the back of the alley. She tried standing up, but before she got up on her own, rough hands were grabbing her arms and pulling her to her feet. Rachel soon found herself staring into a pair of hard dark brown eyes. "Who are you?" the voice belonging to Brown Eyes demanded. It sounded like a woman's, but under all the dirt and matted hair Rachel couldn't tell by looking at the person's face. "What are you doing here?"   
"I - I was just out walking. I stopped here to rest for a moment," Rachel said quickly.   
"Walking?" another voice said. This was definitely a woman's. "Street walking, maybe."   
"A street walker looking to take our stash?" Brown Eyes suggested.   
"Stash?" Rachel repeated. Her eyes grew wide. "No, no, I swear. I would never do that."   
The other woman came around to join her friend. Rachel was startled to see her. She was tall but very thin, almost emaciated, with dirty and stringy blond hair, but enormous blue eyes. Rachel imagined that was what she'd looked only a few months before. "Maybe not steal," she conceded. "Borrow, maybe? If it's been a good night, maybe even buy?"   
"N-no," Rachel stammered. "Really." _I should morph,_ she thought. _These two are so strung out, no one will believe them if they tell anyone._   
Brown Eyes pulled a needle out of a pocket of her - yes, if she looked away from the face Rachel could tell from the subtle curves of Brown Eyes' body that she was a woman - jeans and began to twirl it through her fingers. "You don't sound too sure of yourself anymore."   
"I - I can't. Really, I can't."   
Brown Eyes shrugged. "Fine. I'm convinced you didn't mean us any harm. You're not a cop and you're not about to squeal to them, either. Look at her, Mary," Brown Eyes said to the blond girl, "she's terrified!" She laughed.   
But Mary looked concerned. "You're recovering, aren't you?" Rachel nodded.   
Brown Eyes laughed again. "What's the point of 'recovering'? I don't know anyone who hasn't gone back eventually." Rachel was staring at the needle. Brown Eyes noticed. "You want to, don't you."   
"Y - no! I actually have to be getting back to my friends."   
Brown Eyes shrugged. "Fine. More for us."   
Rachel backed away a few steps, then stopped. "Is. . . is it any good?"   
Brown Eyes smiled slyly. "Some of the best in LA."   
Rachel licked her lips. She wanted to leave. She knew she had to. But her mind and her body were no longer communicating. "Maybe. . . I could try just a shot?"   
Brown Eyes's face broke into a big grin. "Of course. Take her arm, Mary. The poor girl looks like she's gonna faint."   
"We're taking her home with us?" Mary asked as she gently took one of Rachel's arms.   
"Of course. It's the least we can do for the poor girl." 

*** 

Cassie slept fitfully through the night, and finally got up for good around dawn. Feeling groggy, she grabbed some clothes for herself and went to the nearest bathroom to shower.   
By the time she got out, there were signs of life in other parts of the house as well. When Cassie went to the kitchen, she found Ax and Marco already there, drinking coffee and sharing a box of doughnuts.   
"Hey, Cassie," Marco greeted.   
"Goo' morrid, Cathee," Ax said, his mouth full of doughnut.   
"How many times have I said no talking with your mouth full," Marco scolded.   
Ax swallowed. "Sorry. Good morning, Cassie."   
Cassie smiled wearily. "Morning, guys." She grabbed a coffee mug from a cupboard and poured herself a cup of coffee, then sat at the table across from Marco and Ax.   
"Sleep well?" Marco asked as he held out the doughnut box. Cassie took a chocolate one with rainbow sprinkles.   
"No, not really." She took a sip of coffee. "The situation between Rachel and Tobias kept me up."   
"What happened with them?"   
Cassie shrugged. "Neither would talk to me." She looked to Ax. "Did Tobias say anything to you?"   
Ax shook his head. "He was very vague. Guh. Vuh. He didn't wish to speak about it."   
"Hopefully this won't drive either of them back into hiding," Marco said.   
"I don't know about Tobias, but I think Rachel will be able to handle it," Cassie said. "She might not like it that Tobias is around, but she's grown a lot in the past couple of months. She'll survive. She's certainly been through worse."   
Jake joined the group at the table a few minutes later, Tobias following close behind. Marco had provided a room for Tobias so he'd have privacy to morph and demorph, but there was a tree just outside the window to allow Tobias to roost when he was in his hawk form.   
The group sat around the table, talking about more casual subjects than they had the night before. Movies and politics and, at every chance he got, Marco dropped in how he personally knew the person they were talking about.   
Cassie began to grow concerned when she checked her watch around ten and Rachel still hadn't appeared. In fact, there hadn't been any noise from her bedroom, so it wasn't like Rachel had gotten up, taken a shower, and was now just avoiding the group. It'd been over a month since Rachel had tried to sleep past noon, and that was the day after she and Cassie had been up working until one in the morning. Cassie excused herself from the table and went to Rachel's bedroom.   
"Rachel?" Cassie called as she knocked. "You awake yet?"   
No answer.   
Cassie opened the door and practically shouted a curse when she saw the empty bedroom and open window. The four guys came running.   
"What is it?" Jake demanded.   
Cassie was shaking. In rage, frustration or fear even she didn't know. "She's gone. She's done it again. She's run away."   
No one even suggested searching the house before they organized their outside search. If Rachel was anywhere in the house, Cassie's curse would have summoned her back to her room.   
Unconsciously, Jake slipped back in to leader mode, and the others were more than happy to follow him. "Tobias, I want you up in the air. Look everywhere possible. Marco, can you and Ax take one of your cars to search part of the city?"   
Marco nodded. "We'll take from here north."   
"All right. Cassie and I will take my car and search south."   
"You're not going to find her in the shopping district," Cassie said quietly. "That isn't why she left in the middle of the night. And she'd attract too much attention out in the open like that. She's going to be in some dingy back alley. I pray without a needle in her arm."   
Marco nodded somberly, then grabbed Ax by the arm and dragged him to the garage.   
Jake looked to Cassie. "Do you want to come along? Maybe we should leave someone here in case she returns."   
"Marco's got security people who will make sure she doesn't leave again," Cassie said. "I have to come along." Jake nodded, and together they jogged to the driveway where Jake's SUV was parked. He'd ditched his security people for the weekend, explaining that while he was with Marco there were enough security measures in place to rival Fort Knox so he and Cassie were alone for the drive around the city.   
"How far could she have gotten?" Jake asked as he drove. He and Cassie were both staring out windows, looking for any shadowy place Rachel could have hidden herself in.   
"I don't know. I have no idea when she left. After 11, I know. That's when I went to bed and I could hear her in her room. Pacing. I guess Tobias upset her more than I realized."   
"I never would have thought she'd react like that. They were supposed to be the perfect couple."   
"Oh, they were far from it."   
"Well, I know that. Now especially. But never, even when they were still together and Tobias was making excuses for her, did I imagine things could possibly get this bad." 

*** 

Marco chose a plain looking car from his collection to take out on his and Ax's search. The last thing the pair needed was to attract attention. No one had said anything, but it was assumed that this latest escape attempt had to be kept from the media.   
"There's a map of LA in the glove compartment," Marco told Ax as he pulled out of the driveway. "We can use that to check off streets we've already been through."   
After taking a minute to figure out exactly how to pinch the buttons to open it, Ax opened the glove compartment and pulled out a map, then spent another five minutes folding and unfolding the map to get it to a manageable size.   
"We might have to get out and do most of this on foot," Marco told Ax as they approached a densely populated area. "With all these little alleys between apartment buildings and such, there's a million places for someone to hide."   
"That would probably be the most efficient plan of action," Ax agreed. "We can not see very much driving past these alleys, even at decreased speeds."   
Without pausing, Marco swerved and pulled the car into a parallel parking space, causing the driver of the car behind him to honk his horn. "Whatever," Marco muttered as he and Ax stepped out of the car.   
"Perhaps we should split up," Ax suggested as they walked towards the nearest alley. "With one of us searching each side of the street, our search would be completed twice as fast. Tuh."   
"It'd be a little suspicious to see one Animorph ducking in and out of alleys. We're sticking together. And if anyone asks we can make up something, like we're simply out for a walk, enjoying our beautiful city."   
"There are many words I would use to describe this city, but, especially in this area, 'beautiful' is not one of them."   
Marco rolled his eyes. "Less talking, more looking. We've gotta find Rachel before some sleazy reporter does." 

*** 

Rachel spent most of the morning dozing on a mattress that reeked of beer and stale urine in an ugly, broken down warehouse. In between naps, she'd take a shot of heroin from Mary or Brown Eyes, who's name turned out to be Ariel, just like the Disney character. Either Rachel looked a lot worse than she thought she did, or the two of them were too strung out on various drugs and disconnected from the mainstream to recognize her as being an Animorph. So Rachel reverted back to using the name that had been put on her fake ID so many months ago: Sara.   
"So how's it feel to be back among friends?" Mary asked as she prepared another shot for herself and Rachel.   
Rachel smiled lazily. "You can't even imagine the feeling. The people I've been staying with since cleaning up. . . they just don't understand what it's like. They see the old needle tracks and freak out, then try to ignore them and treat me like, I don't know, I was just on vacation for awhile." She laughed. "And maybe I was!"   
"To never ending vacations," Mary said as she handed Rachel a full needle.   
"Amen, sister," Rachel muttered as she expertly found a vein and injected her drug. "Amen to that." 

*** 

As the sun began to fall below the horizon, setting the sky ablaze in orange and red, Marco's and Ax's resolve was begining to fall as well, though without the spectacular colors.   
"We've been through half the alleys in this damn city," Marco said as he and Ax were driving again. "We've been approached by five reporters, three photographers, and God alone knows how many random people. But no one has seen any sign of Rachel."   
"If she left very early this morning, it's quite conceivable that she found a place to hide before the general population was awake. A-wake-uh," Ax rationalized.   
But Marco wasn't in the mood for rationalizations. He checked his cell phone again, to make sure it was on and receiving a signal and he really hadn't missed a call from Jake and Cassie saying they'd found Rachel and she was perfectly fine.   
Marco? Ax? >   
Marco nearly swerved off the road. "Tobias?" he asked verbally, out of habit.   
Tobias? Have you seen anything? > Ax asked.   
I think so. It's getting too dark for me to read street signs, but there's a girl who's wearing the same dress Rachel was last night sitting just inside some old abandoned looking building. It's by some apartment complexes, um. . . Pine Estates and Traditions? >   
"I know where that is," Marco said, pulling a sharp and very illegal U-turn in the middle of the street. "Tell Tobias we're on our way, and see if he can track down Cassie and Jake."   
Ax relayed the message.   
Will do, > Tobias said.   
In just a few minutes, Marco and Ax were pulling up to an abandoned warehouse in a shady part of town that Marco had only driven through before, never actually stopped. Even the air seemed to have a different quality, just a few streets over from the "respectable" apartments and stores. It was thicker. Grittier. The flickering and broken street lights didn't do anything to lighten the atmosphere of the street.   
"How the hell are we going to get in there without getting jumped? Especially when we don't even know if she's the one in there?" Marco asked.   
"I believe we can trust Tobias' judgement in this situation. He would know better than anyone, except possibly Cassie, what Rachel would look like."   
"Yeah," Marco admitted. "Come on. We need to stop looking like tourists and easy victims and simply go in there, pick up Rachel, and get her out." Ax nodded, and walked by Marco's side into the dilapidated building.   
Marco coughed when he took his first breath inside the building. He'd lived in some pretty bad places in his day, but nothing as rancid as this. It was an obvious drug den, as no one even looked up at his and Ax's arrival.   
"Look near the windows," Marco instructed Ax in a whisper, trying to breathe through his mouth rather than his nose. "Tobias wouldn't have been able to see her if she was very far away from one." Ax nodded and began looking around in the opposite direction from Marco.   
Marco couldn't believe that people could actually live in this squalor. Then again, judging by the state of some of the people there, they were hardly 'living.' Everyone who was awake had a glassy eyed stare, either from drugs or alcohol. No one was talking. The only sounds came from liquid being drained from bottles, happy sighs as people felt the effects of their drug, and, from somewhere Marco was thankful he couldn't see, the animalistic grunts of anonymous sex. Part of Marco was seriously hoping Tobias had been wrong, and Rachel wasn't here.   
I've found her, > Ax told Marco somberly. The southwest corner of the building. I believe I will need your help removing her from the building. >   
Marco got over to the other side of the building as fast as he could, doing his best not to trip over bodies or bottles. He found Ax kneeling over the bodies of three young women, all in various stages of undress with new needle marks on their arms. Rachel was among them, the dress from the night before almost unrecognizable through the tears and filth.   
"Is she. . . is there. . ."   
"She is breathing," Ax said quietly. "But that is all I can be sure of."   
"I think I can lift her. Move the other two," Marco said. Ax did as he was told and Marco bent down and placed one arm under Rachel's head, the other under her knees, and carefully lifted her up. Even after nine months of recovery, Rachel hadn't quite regained her old weight and certainly none of the muscle. Marco had no trouble lifting her and carrying her from the building.   
When they reached the car, Marco's cell phone was ringing and showing Jake's number on the caller ID. Marco laid Rachel in the back seat of the car and told Ax to sit with her while drove.   
"What is it, Jake?" Marco asked when he answered the phone.   
"Tobias said he found her?"   
"Yeah. We've got her in my car now."   
"What's it look like?"   
"Bad. Real bad. Should we take her to the hospital?"   
Jake's voice was muffled for a moment. Marco was about to ask Jake to repeate what he said when Jake clearly said, "Cassie wants to see Rachel first. I know we passed a hospital during our search that wasn't that far from your place. We even stopped in there to see if Rachel had taken shelter there for whatever reason. If we need to, we can get Rachel there within minutes."   
"Gotcha. We'll be back at my place as soon as we can be." Marco hung up the phone. "We're taking her home," he told Ax as he turned on the car and slammed it into gear. He was in such a hurry that the tires spun for a moment before the car lurched forward and they were on their way.   
They made it back to Marco's house in record time. Jake, Cassie and Tobias were standing on the front step already when Marco pulled into the driveway. Cassie ran to meet them at the car.   
"I have been monitering her pulse during the drive," Ax informed Cassie as Marco gently lifted Rachel from the backseat. "I am afraid to say it has been rather erratic."   
"Take her to her room," Cassie told Marco as they went inside the house. "Get her extra blankets and maybe even a few pillows."   
"I know where those are," Ax said, and walked as quickly as he could to track them down.   
"If she's as weak as Ax says, shouldn't we just take her to the hospital?" Tobias asked.   
"If she were anyone else, I wouldn't even question it," Cassie said curtly as she felt Rachel's pulse for herself. "But I wanted to see her for myself. If. . . well, no one else needs to find out about this if it's not as bad as - or if it's worse than - we fear."   
Rachel began to toss about slightly and her eyes fluttered open. "Mary? Ariel?"   
"Shh," Cassie said. "It's Cassie. You're back at Marco's."   
"Fuck," Rachel muttered. "Not again."   
"I think we need to take you to the hospital, Rachel."   
Rachel shook her head. "What's the point?"   
Cassie looked up at the door way where the other Animorphs stood. Ax was waiting with an armload of blankets and pillows. "Just leave them there, Ax. Can you guys leave us alone for a bit?" Without a word, the guys stepped out and closed the door behind them.   
Cassie turned her attention back to Rachel. "What do you mean, what's the point? Of course there's a point. You have so much to live for!"   
"Every time I get a second chance, I fuck it up," Rachel whispered weakly. "I don't have anything left. I can't be trusted on my own. I can't stand to be around anyone except you. What kind of fucked up existence is that?"   
"But you can get better! You were doing so well!"   
"If that's 'well,' I don't want that anymore." She focused her attention on Cassie. "The only thing I'll miss is you."   
"Shh, don't say that," Cassie told Rachel, tears welling up in her eyes. She took one of Rachel's hands; it was shaking. "Are you cold?" Rachel's shoulders rose and fell slightly. Cassie interpretted it as a shrug. "Let me get you a blanket." Cassie went to the door where Ax had left the pile and grabbed two blankets and another pillow. "Here," she said as she laid the blankets over Rachel. "And a pillow for your head."   
Now Rachel was about to cry. "You're too good, Cassie. I don't deserve this."   
"Of course you do. And you're going to make a full recovery, just likeyou have before."   
"But I'm a failure. I don't deserve anymore chances."   
"You are the strongest person I know. You've been through rougher stretches than this and pulled through."   
Rachel looked away. "You don't know what I've done today."   
"Then tell me. You know I'll always listen to you."   
Rachel's eyes shut. "I'm tired," she whispered.   
Cassie sat on the edge of the bed and took Rachel's hand. "Sleep, then. I'll be right next to you the whole time. I'll be here when you wake up." And you will. You have to. 

*** 

True to her word, Cassie didn't leave Rachel's side the entire evening. The other Animorphs came in and out to check on Rachel, and Ax brought dinner on one of his trips. Cassie thanked him, but wasn't hungry.   
Tobias was the last of the group to drift in to the room. He stood by Cassie's shoulder, silently watching Rachel sleep, for several minutes before speaking. "We should take her to the hospital. We have to. We can't nurse her back on our own."   
"And all the hospital could do, maybe, is put her on an IV to keep her fed and wait with her while she goes through withdrawal. They can't cure her," Cassie said.   
"But they can give her a chance!"   
Cassie turned in her seat to look at Tobias. "A chance to go through this again?"   
"I can't just sit back and watch the woman I love die!"   
"And you think I can? Maybe I don't love her the way you do, Tobias, but make no mistake: I love Rachel more than I love any other person on the planet. This tears me up inside more than you can imagine."   
"Then how can you just sit here and watch her?"   
"How long would Rachel last if she did pull through this? Six months? A year? Maybe two? Rachel living for two years under constant supervision? That's not living, especially for Rachel."   
Tobias sat on the edge of the bed. "But can we live without her?"   
"Let's not talk about that now," Cassie said as she reached for Tobias' hand. "Let's see what the morning brings." 

*** 

Both Rachel and Cassie slept fitfully through the night. It seemed every time Cassie drifted off, Rachel would wake up and want another blanket, or to have one taken away. Jake came in at one point and offered to take over the watch from Cassie, but she refused. She had promised to stay with Rachel, and if this was the last promise she made to Rachel she was going to keep it.   
Around dawn, Cassie finally had to leave Rachel's side to use the bathroom. When she returned she found Rachel awake, staring blankly at the ceiling.   
"Hey," Cassie said softly. "Hey, I'm right here, Rachel." She took one of Rachel's hands. Surprisingly, Rachel squeezed Cassie's hand.   
"I know," Rachel croaked. "You promised."   
"And I've been here all night. How - how are you feeling?"   
"Like I'm dying." Rachel struggled to focus on Cassie's face. "Am I?"   
"I don't know. You need to go to the hospital -"   
"No."   
"But Rachel -"   
"What's the point?" Rachel repeated. "I'm just so tired of it all. And cold."   
Cassie pulled another blanket on to the bed. "Then why don't you rest. Maybe, after some sleep. . . ."   
Rachel shook her head slightly. "But yeah. Maybe."   
"Do you want me to stay? Or maybe Jake?"   
"Yes. Please?"   
"Me?" Rachel nodded weakly. "Of course I'll stay." Cassie settled back into the chair she'd spent the night in.   
Soon Cassie heard the sounds of the other houseguests rising. Dresser drawers were sorted through, toilets were used and showers were run. One by one, the guys stopped by Rachel's room to check on her progress. Cassie repeated Rachel's latest conversation to each of them.   
"I still can't believe she'd give up like this," Tobias said when he was in.   
"You know better than anyone what the last two years have been like for her."   
"She's survived so much. . . to be beaten by this?"   
"After surviving so much, what was left to keep her going?"   
Tobias shook his head. "I was hoping I'd be enough."   
Cassie returned her attention to Rachel. "So was I."   
Ax brought in breakfast and lunch for Cassie and Rachel, but like the dinner the night before it largely remained untouched.   
It was late evening before Rachel woke up again enough to speak. "Cassie?" she whispered hoarsely.   
"I'm here," Cassie assured her friend, squeezing Rachel's hand.   
"For how long?"   
"Almost 24 hours now."   
"Why?"   
"Why?" Cassie repeated. A dozen reasons raced through her head. "Because. . . because you're my friend. And one of the most important people in my life."   
Rachel attempted to smile. "I'm sorry."   
"Oh, Rachel," Cassie said with a sigh.   
"In case. . . in case I don't make it, Cassie, I need to talk to you."   
Cassie didn't bother to argue with Rachel's morbid prediction. "Of course."   
"Is the door closed?"   
Cassie glanced behind her. "It is."   
Rachel nodded. "Good."   
"What is it?" Cassie asked gently.   
Rachel shook her head. "I don't know if I can say it."   
"Take your time."   
"Do I have any left?"   
"You can have as much time as you want to have. It's all up to you," Cassie said firmly.   
"I don't have that strength anymore." Rachel sighed. "What did I do to deserve a best friend like you?"   
Cassie's mouth quirked up in an attempt at a smile. "Luck?"   
"Mine's not that good."   
"Perhaps it was mine then."   
That made Rachel smile. "Yeah. You deserve all the good luck you get."   
Cassie gently massaged Rachel's hand. It was so cold. "You know, you're probably the best thing that ever happened to me."   
"Why?"   
"All the best things in my life happened because of you."   
"Yeah. Right."   
"Really. I wanted so badly to be just like you in elementary school. You were always so fearless."   
"And look where it got me."   
"It doesn't have to be this way."   
"Yes it does." Rachel struggled to take a deep breath. "But I wanted to say. . . something. I. . . I don't remember anymore."   
"It'll come back to you. Just rest for awhile."   
"No. No, I can't. Not before I tell you. . . tell you. . . ."   
"Relax," Cassie coached Rachel. She could feel her throat closing up with the effort to hold back tears. _It's my turn to be strong. For her._   
"I love you," Rachel suddenly said.   
"What?"   
"That's what I had to say. I think I love you, Cassie."   
Cassie smiled weakly and pushed a strand of hair off Rachel's forehead. "Of course you do. And I love you, too."   
Rachel shook her head, frustrated. "No. I mean it, Cassie. I. . . it's. . . the way I was supposed to feel about Tobias? That's what I mean."   
Holding back the tears was becomming harder for Cassie. "I don't know what to say."   
Rachel gripped Cassie's hand tightly. "Say it?"   
"What?"   
"Do you. . . I just poured my - my heart out to you. Say something?"   
Cassie half gasped, half sobbed for a breath. "I - I love you, too, Rachel. The same way."   
A ghost of a smile appeared on Rachel's lips as she closed her eyes again.   



	13. Epilogue

**Breakdown**   
**Epilogue**

The CNN anchorwoman looked up at the monitor, tears in her eyes. "A day of celebration has been tainted with sadness today, as the Animorphs canceled their scheduled appearances today. Jake, Cassie, Marco, Prince Aximili and Tobias called a somber press conference this morning at Marco's LA home. Cassie made the announcement that late last night, Rachel died of a drug overdose. She was 18 years old."   
The screen cut from the anchorwoman to the press conference, Cassie taking Jake's usual place in front of the microphone. "Rachel had been struggling the last two years with drug and alcohol addiction," she said, pausing every few words to sniff. "Last night these. . . these addictions proved too strong for her." She sobbed and crumpled up the paper she'd been holding in her shaking hands. "Rachel was the strongest and bravest person I know. She survived so much. Today we're asking that. . . that instead of holding your usual parties to celebrate your freedom. . . use them to celebrate life. Your life, the life of your family and. . . and Rachel's life." She broke down sobbing. The last image of the conference was of the remaining Animorphs huddling together and shuffling back up the driveway to Marco's home. 

*** 

The Ellimist and Crayak, of course, watched it all.   
"Couldn't you see this happening?" Crayak asked. "Was this more merciful than my way?"   
"She fought until the end this time," the Ellimist answered flatly.   
"She was weak. Like all humans. I did her a favor."   
"I thought she was your favorite."   
"She was the Drode's favorite," Crayak clarified. "She suited my purposes for awhile, but I grew bored. Her time was over two of their years ago. You should never have altered things."   
"You shouldn't have, either."   
Crayak scoffed. "You still won and my goals were achieved. I grow weary of watching this planet. Shall we start a new game?"   
The Ellimist couldn't resist. His time with the humans, especially the Animorphs, was over. It was time to move on. "What are your terms this time?" 

*** 

**_Author's Notes:_** Wow. It took me a year and a half, but I managed to finish this silly fic. And all I can say is thank you to those of you who've kept up with it, even after the year long break I took from this fic. I especially need to thank Jinako-chan, Ross and everyone else whom I love on the anirarepair mailing list. This fic never would have started without you guys. Granted, this fic only superficially resembles what my original plan was (I never did complete that challenge!) but you all helped keep me going and gave me feedback on this. Thank you.   
Now, I know everyone wanted Rachel to live, but there are some things about this fic I couldn't alter from my original vision, and that's one of them. I love her, too, and this fic has been a huge undertaking. I did take some of your comments and used them in here, such as making sure all the other Animorphs had screen time (as it were), because originally this was all Rachel and Cassie, with a tiny cameo by Tobias (when he was watching the news in the last chapter). I'm sure you've noticed that I'm not dealing with The One. I never intended for this fic to tie back into the canon plot of the books and I, frankly, feel that most of book 54 was bull. So no messy subplots with trying to "rescue Ax."   
Though of course as I write this I start getting ideas. ~chases away her muse~   
Anyway, the reason for this sudden push at finishing Breakdown is that in six hours I'm leaving for my first year of college, and I have no idea how much time I'll have to work on my fics. So I figured I should finish this one, one of my all time favorites, up while I knew I had the time. I obviously pushed it as much as possible, but here it is. Thanks again for reading. Hopefully it won't be another year before you have something of mine to read again. 


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